Grabbing two apples from the counter, Nola started toward the door. She could go down and see her mother and still make it back to the Amber Dome in time to work.
She froze with her hand on the doorknob. She’d been summoned to the Amber Dome. One of the domes that hadn’t been damaged by the attack. Whose walls were still solid with no cracks to the outside world.
The air in there would be clean. It was safe to work on plant preservation. There was no chance of acid rain contaminating the workers. But there would be no chance of her trying to run either.
Mom doesn’t know. Only Jeremy knows.
Nola exhaled, forcing her lungs to remember how breathing was supposed to work. She wouldn’t let the panic that floated right under her skin take control, not when there were useful tasks to be done. She was alive and in the domes. She had a chance to be productive and people were counting on her. She had lost the luxuries of fear and self-loathing.
She opened the door and walked slowly out into the bright morning sun. The vents above pumped in fresh, cool air, their low humming a battle cry against the heat of the outside world.
This is part of my punishment. Living with the lie. I’ll never be sure if someone knows what I’ve done.
She reached the bottom of the steps to the tunnels and instinctively headed, not toward her mother’s lab or even the Amber Dome, toward Jeremy’s house. He should be home from his night’s work in the city. He was probably asleep. But he wouldn’t mind Nola waking him.
Nola smiled to herself, her first real smile in weeks. Jeremy would be happy to see her even if she only had a minute.
She ran the rest of the way through the tunnels, waving at the Iron Dome guards as she passed. One of them smiled and waved back, not bothering to hide his chuckle. She stopped below Jeremy’s window, her panting from running so long swallowing the laugh that bubbled in her chest.
She reveled in the foolish feeling of standing under his window in broad daylight.
“Jeremy,” Nola called up softly. “Jeremy!”
The window opened a moment later, and his face appeared. Though his cheek was marked with lines from his pillows, his eyes were alert the moment he saw her.
“Nola, what’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I just wanted to see you.”
In one swift movement, Jeremy jumped out his window, landing silently in front of her.
Without a word, Nola wrapped her arms around his bare stomach, laying her head on his chest.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He held her close, pressing his lips to the top of her head.
“I’m—” She stopped herself before speaking the comforting lie. “I have a work assignment today, in the Amber Dome.”
“That’s good.” He leaned back just enough to look Nola in the eye. “You’ll be helping.”
“I know, and I want to, I do. But everyone else is working in the atrium or in the Grasslands Dome where the real damage is. What if my mom knows? What if…” All the happiness Nola felt at seeing Jeremy faded away. Her hands shook at the thought of her mother knowing what she had done. Lenora wasn’t like Jeremy. She wouldn’t forgive the way he had.
“Shhh, you’re okay.” He took her trembling hands in his. “I talked to your mom.”
“You what?”
“I told her she needed to stop treating you like you couldn’t help,” Jeremy said. “She’d been keeping the Council from giving you an assignment because she thought you needed more time to heal. I told her you would be better off helping.”
“But not near the breaks in the glass?” Nola’s throat tightened.
“You aren’t medically cleared for it.” Jeremy’s brow wrinkled. “You were with the Vampers and in the open air too long. The Council is worried about people getting contaminated with the outside air coming in, and you’re at the top of the list of people who have been overexposed.”
“But you and the other guards have been going out every day. If you can go into the city—”
“That’s different. It’s our job.” He tucked Nola’s hair behind her ear. “And they make sure we’re okay. They take care of us.”
“But why not do the same for me? I want to help, I don’t want anything with Nightland to stop me from doing what I can—”
“They won’t let you, Nola.” He grimaced, resigning himself to something very unpleasant. “You’re a girl.”
“What?”
“You’re a really smart girl, with really great DNA,” he said quickly, as though ripping off a bandage. “The doctors are worried about birth defects in the next generation if the young women are exposed to the outside air. So, they’re pushing all the women away from working on the breaks in the glass to protect future generations. It’s not just you, I promise.”
“Well,” Nola began slowly, “at least it’s not because they think I’m a liability or a traitor.”
“There is that.” Jeremy gave a tight smile.
She glanced at the house. “Does the ruling go for guards, too? Are they going to try and keep the female guards in the domes?”
“Yeah.”
“And how does Gentry feel about that?”
“Not good.” Jeremy wrapped his arms around Nola. “She’s furious, and I can’t blame her.”
“Can she fight it?” She pressed her cheek into the warmth of his chest.
The Outer Guard were the elite. The ones who had chosen to risk their lives every day for the protection of the domes. Nola’s father had been an Outer Guard and had died in service to the domes. If anyone had ever tried to keep him inside, they would have had one very angry, very skilled man on their hands.
“How can you fight what’s for the good of the domes?” Jeremy said.
“You can’t,” Nola said. The weight of the truth hung heavy in the air. “So, I guess I should get to the Amber Dome. Where the young women go to work.” She leaned up to kiss him.
Jeremy brushed his lips against hers. “Thank you for waking me up.” He kissed Nola again. “I think you should do it more often.”
“Me, too.” She kissed him on the cheek and walked away, holding onto his hand until their fingers couldn’t touch anymore.
Chapter Five
Six guards flanked the steps to the Amber Dome, all wearing full riot gear. Nola hesistated in front of them, unprepared to meet a full complement of guards in her brown gardening jumpsuit. But the first guard nodded at her to pass. She hurried up the steps, finishing the braid in her hair as she entered the vast space of the Amber Dome.
Lenora stood with three guards on a high platform in front of the patch of wheat. Nola’s shoulders tensed at the sight of guards in the middle of the garden.
Amber Dome housed most of the domes’ edible crops. Rows of vegetables bordered trellises that supported vines bearing heavy tomatoes and gourds. The placid greenery held no threat for the guards to defend against.
“Magnolia,” Lenora called as Nola approached. “How are you?” Her mother looked her over from head to toe as though searching for a sign that even being asked to work was enough to make Nola crack.
“I’m good.” Nola forced a bright smile. “I’m happy to have something productive to do.”
“Good.” Lenora reached down to help her daughter up onto the waist-high platform. “And you won’t just be working, you’ll be supervising. We are going to have to move more plants in here. We lost animal feed from the grasslands, and we can’t let the stock starve.”
“Right,” Nola answered, still trying to listen to her mother as movement at the stairs caught her eye.
“It’s not desperately complicated, and with the men in the department working in the Grasslands Dome, the muscle trying to rebuild the walls, and everyone in the technical departments trying to purge toxins from the domes’ systems, we’ve had to get a little creative with the workforce.”
A dozen people emerged from the staircase. People Nola had never seen before, dressed in the worn clothes of city dwel
lers.
“I’ll be up here supervising the operation, and you’ll be down there making sure none of the outsiders damage our plants. They’ve all been cleared and seem competent, but I doubt they know much about agriculture.”
Guards herded the outsiders toward the center of the dome. A look of something between amazement and fear showed on each of their faces.
“Mom, we aren’t supposed to have outsiders in the domes,” Nola said.
“Desperate times, Magnolia. The Incorporation couldn’t send help from any of the other domes, so this is what we have to work with,” Lenora said. “They build sets of domes all over the world to ensure future generations of children have a shot at living. They meddle in every decision we make from how much iron we get in our diets to what plants I should grow. But ask the Incorporation for some extra help after you’ve been attacked by thieving murderers, and this is their solution.”
She turned to the outsiders who now stood at the foot of the platform. “Thank you all for joining us.” Lenora spoke in a bright voice that sounded nothing like her usual tone. “You will be broken up into four groups for planting tasks. With any luck, we can get all of this done over the next few days. We genuinely appreciate your assistance during the domes’ time of need.”
Lenora ignored the stony looks the outsiders gave her as she issued instructions. Nola was one of four who had been chosen to supervise the outsiders. The other three Domers were also women, all under thirty. Jeremy had been right. They hadn’t assigned her here out of fear she would run. They were trying to protect the women.
Disgust mingled with relief as Nola led her group of three workers to the lattice side of the dome. Past the tall stacks of pots where the leafy greens grew and the coated pipes with tiny sprigs of herbs peeping out the side, to where vines bound with thick twine wrapped around metal poles.
Trays waited at the end of the long line of vines. She didn’t need to ask her mother what task they had been assigned. The tomatoes were ripe. They needed to be harvested and sent down to food collection. Then the vines that weren’t useable anymore would be trimmed away, making room for newer plants to join the lattices. Nola had been doing the same job for years. Only the workers were new.
“Right,” Nola said, trying to sound more confident than she felt as she turned to face the outsiders. “Thank you for coming to help us today.” She realized how horrible the words were as soon as they left her mouth.
The three people that stood facing her hadn’t come to the domes out of the goodness of their hearts. They’d come because the domes were paying them, or maybe even forcing them.
And now it’s my job to make them help me harvest food that’s better than anything they’ve eaten in their lives.
“I’m Nola.” She held out a hand to the worker closest to her—an older woman about her mother’s age, but with bright white, thinning hair.
“Catlyn.” The woman’s voice was low and soft as she took Nola’s hand for only the briefest moment.
“Beauford,” the only male in the group said, clasping his hands firmly behind his back as though daring Nola to force him to shake hands.
“Nice to meet you, Beauford.” Nola nodded.
Beauford looked strong, healthy, and barely older than Nola herself. Aside from the wear on his clothes and faint rings under his eyes, he could have been from the domes.
For a moment, Nola forgot to breathe. What if the man was on Vamp? What if he had been injecting the drugs that were so popular in the city in order to stay healthy? But the domes would have blood-tested everyone they let in to work for illnesses that could be spread.
They must have checked for Vamp and Lycan as well.
“I’m T.” The last worker’s words pulled Nola back to the conversation, or lack thereof.
“T?” Nola asked.
The girl nodded with a forced and fleeting smile. Her long, auburn hair shimmered with the movement. Freckles covered the girl’s face, and though she wore a long-sleeved, baggy shirt, Nola was sure that the freckles covered T’s arms as well.
“I appreciate all of your help.” Nola smiled as convincingly as she could. “First thing we need to do is harvest the tomatoes. Just pick the nice red ones—”
“We know what tomatoes are supposed to look like.” Beauford grabbed a cart. “Just ’cause we’re from the outside doesn’t mean we’re stupid.”
“I never meant—” Nola began, but T shook her head.
“Don’t worry about it, Miss. We know what we’re here to do, let’s just do it.”
Without another word, the three outsiders began picking the tomatoes and laying them out on the carts. Nola moved far enough down the row to be able to glimpse one of the other work groups. The Domer in charge of the only other group in sight stood, hands on her hips, as she watched the outsiders work. Lording over them as though they were animals that couldn’t be trusted.
Nola walked back to her group and knelt on the sun-warmed earth, picking tomatoes and laying them on T’s cart. T eyed her for a moment before continuing her work, carefully removing each good fruit.
It took hours to work their way down the line. By the time all the tomatoes had been harvested, they had five full carts, and the time for lunch had come.
A table had been brought out near the side of the dome, filled with food and vats of water.
“Right,” Nola said, dusting her hands on her pants and hoping she was giving the right instructions. “We need to take the carts to the stairs, and then it’ll be time for lunch.”
At the word “lunch,” all three outsiders turned toward the table laden with food. Nola’s chest tightened at the look of hunger in their eyes.
A simple meal to us is something unbelievable to them.
Nola grabbed a cart and started pushing toward the stairs, not sure how to explain they would only be fed a simple work lunch.
Two of the other groups had already moved over to the food table. The supervisors sat off to one side, watching their charges eat the trays of fish and fruit they had been given.
Nola pushed her cart into line with those that held squash, beets, and kale. “I’ll go back for the last cart.” She turned to her crew.
They had formed a chain, Catlyn leading, Beauford in the middle, and T in the back, moving four carts between the three of them.
“Or…not,” Nola said.
“We’ve got it,” Catlyn said, her eyes on the table of food. As soon as the carts were in place, the three descended on the table, each taking a tray without looking at what was on them and settling onto the grass.
Nola surveyed the leftover trays. All had seared fish. It was the most abundant meat in the domes, so of course that’s what they would feed the outsiders. Each piece of meat was accompanied by a handful of string beans and an apple, pear, or plum.
Nola chose a tray with a plum and sat down with her group. Each of them immediately stopped their ravenous eating to stare at her.
“May I join you?” she asked.
“Of course.” Catlyn smiled then went back to eating at a slightly slower pace than before.
Beauford glanced at the other Domers in the corner with a look that clearly said he wished Nola had chosen to eat with her own kind.
Nola crunched a string bean, trying to think of something to say. She shouldn’t ask about jobs. If they had those, they wouldn’t be working in the domes. She shouldn’t ask about family. With the child mortality rate on the outside so high, at least one of them would have lost a family member. “So how did you get chosen to work here?” was the first thing she could think to say that didn’t seem too terribly offensive.
“You’re right,” Beauford said. “We were chosen. It is such an honor to harvest food we’ll never eat.”
“We are eating it.” Catlyn glanced fearfully at Nola.
“They came around the city looking for folks,” T said, looking Nola square in the eyes. “People who didn’t have jobs and were still healthy, or at least not contagious. There w
eren’t very many to choose from. I don’t think anyone they found hasn’t been brought to work in some capacity. Hauling glass for the walls or working on planting at least.”
Nola froze, a string bean halfway to her mouth. “You’re it? The ones who came to work are the only healthy ones left?”
“The ones who haven’t turned to Lycan or Vamp,” Beauford said.
“We’re the only ones without jobs,” T corrected, giving Beauford a hard look. “The healthy ones like us all work in factories or the few shops that haven’t been trampled. Workers who won’t cough blood on the machines or die on the floor are in huge demand.”
“Then why aren’t you working somewhere out there?” Nola tried to rid her mind of the image of a human coughing blood. She understood the reality of illness, but hearing T speak of it in such a matter-of-fact way somehow made it worse.
“There won’t be factories in the city much longer.” Catlyn reached over and squeezed T’s hand. “Between the fires and the city falling to the Vampers and the wolves, and with those poor zombie folks attacking people in the streets, there isn’t really a way for people to buy things.”
“The only factories left are the ones making those nice uniforms you wear and extra glass for your walls.” Beauford took a violent bite out of his apple.
“And even those are starting to shut down.” T glanced sideways at the guards. “The fires a while ago took out a factory, and then the fighting at Nightland took out another. That’s how we lost our jobs. You’ll still have new glass and machines, but don’t expect clothes to be coming in from the city for much longer. Destroying Nightland hurt the city, too.”
“Nightland,” Nola said, focusing hard on T’s eyes to keep her head from spinning. “Getting rid of Vampers hurt the city?”
Boy of Blood Page 3
