by Cross, Amy
“We're going to find Elizabeth's -”
“Fine,” she says, waving her right hand at me with a dismissive sigh, “if you want to waste your time, I won't stop you. Try to meet back here at the truck some time this evening. Or tomorrow. Or not. I have a feeling we'll bump into one another again soon Thomas, but if not... You guys have a nice life, yeah?”
With that, she turns and walks away.
I open my mouth to call after her, but at the last moment I realize that there's probably no point. She's full of herself anyway, and somehow I get the feeling that she'll be fine. I turn to Elizabeth, and I immediately realize that I've made the right decision. I'm not even sure that she could go searching for her father alone; I think maybe she'd simply be too scared, and she'd end up drifting through the city.
I guess we all need a little help sometimes.
“So,” I say finally, “should we get on with it? Let's go and find your father.”
Elizabeth
My name's Elizabeth Marter, and I've had one hell of a day.
I want to say those words out-loud, as I walk with Thomas and Polly along another ruined, abandoned city street. After all, those were the words that kept me sane just over a week ago, when I left Boston, and now I feel as if I need something that'll help me stay together. Then again, I know I can't afford to go nuts, not again. If I do that, I'm as good as dead. And I definitely don't want to start having more visions of that asshole Bob.
A moment later, spotting movement, I glance up at one of the buildings. All I see now is row after row of broken windows, but I'm sure that a few seconds ago there was something moving up there. Then, as if to emphasize that point, I spot movement in the other direction and I turn to see the bombed-out ruin of what looks like an old hotel.
“We're not alone,” I whisper.
“What's that?” Thomas asks.
“We're being watched.”
“Sure, but -”
“No, actually watched,” I continue, just as I see a face duck out of sight in a window high above us. “Haven't you noticed? It's like they've noticed we're new.”
“I doubt anyone here cares very much about us,” Thomas replies.
“Maybe they think we have things,” I say, stopping suddenly as I see something moving in the shadows ahead. “Are you sure we shouldn't stick more to where we arrived? It looks like we're heading into a kind of derelict area. What if we get jumped?”
Thomas turns to me, and I can see from his expression that he's finding this a little tiring.
“You said -”
“This isn't the way, anyway,” I tell him. “I'm sorry, I'm finding it hard to get my bearings, but I don't think I've ever seen this street before. I think we need to head in a different direction, and then maybe I'll be able to get a better idea of where we are. I need to find places I recognize, but this...”
I look ahead at the wrecked street. I'm not lying to Thomas; I don't recognize this street at all, and I'd want to turn around anyway, even if I hadn't started spotting the figures watching us.
“I don't like it here,” Polly says, still clutching my hand.
“Me neither,” I reply, and then I turn and start walking back the way we just came.
“We need a plan!” Thomas calls after me. “We can't just walk around in circles!”
“We have a plan,” I say, although I don't know if he can even hear me now. “We're going back to where we arrived, and then we're going to figure out exactly where to go.” We head over a crossing, and I glance both ways. “There might even be -”
Stopping suddenly, I realize that I think I do recognize a building in the distance. I hesitate, struggling to believe that I could possibly be so lucky, but then I realize that I'm right.
“Lookout five,” I whisper.
“I'm on lookout five!” I remember Natalie shouting at me in the midst of all the chaos about a week ago. “That's got a good clean view all across the old depot area. I'm gonna be one sick bastard, taking out anyone who tries to attack from that direction. Where are you?”
“This way!” I call out, and then – still holding Polly's hand – I start hurrying along the next street.
“What is it?” Thomas shouts, coming after us. “Elizabeth? What have you seen?”
“It's okay,” I say to Polly, smiling at her in a desperate attempt to calm her down a little. “I think I know where we are now. If I can find an old friend, she'll be able to tell us which way to go.”
“But -”
“Just relax,” I add, and I think I might be talking as much to myself as I am to Polly. “Everything's going to be okay.”
As soon as we reach the next intersection, however, I feel a sense of dread in my chest. I was right about this being lookout five, but the entire front of the building is missing, as if it was blown away by an immense explosion. Pieces of twisted metal are poking up from the ruins, with chunks of cracked and crumbled concrete all around, but it's clear that lookout five must have taken a direct hit during the battle. Now, as I stand and stare at the ruins, Natalie's words once again come back to haunt me, echoing all around.
“I'm on lookout five!”
“What is it?” Thomas asks, finally catching up to me. “What is this place?”
“One of the lookout points,” I reply, still staring at the damage. “Or that's what it was, anyway.”
For a moment, I can only think of Natalie. She had a few close calls and she somehow managed to survive them all, but nobody would have had a chance if they were in this building when it was destroyed. I look at the mangled wreckage, and at the piles of concrete that have collapsed and spilled out into the street. It's difficult not to think of all the bodies that must have been crushed under the debris. Natalie used to say that she always got lucky, she even seemed to think that she was somehow invulnerable, but last time I saw her she was heading right this way. If she was manning lookout five during the final battle, I don't see how she could possibly have survived. She must be dead.
“Are you okay?” Thomas asks.
“Fine,” I reply, pulling away as he puts a hand on my shoulder. I look both ways, and suddenly I realize that I at least know roughly where we are. “There was a command post not far from here. A place where some of the leaders worked. My father might have been near there when the battle started.”
“Maybe we should just ask someone,” Thomas suggests.
I turn to him.
“And let them know that I'm the daughter of one of their enemies?” I point out. “I'm not sure I want to do that.”
“They're not monsters,” he replies. “I was with them for a while. They're just ordinary people.”
“Ordinary people who got caught up in a war,” I continue. “Call me crazy, but I don't want to attract too much attention. I just want to find my father and...”
My voice trails off as I realize that there are certain contradictions inherent in what I just said. The problem is, I've experienced enough over the past hundred-or-so days to know that I don't trust people in general, and the last thing I want is to encourage anyone to pay too much attention to me. Then again, this city is huge, and before I only really spent time in a small enclave. If the whole city has been opened up now, it's going to be really difficult to know where to start looking for anyone. This little section around here is all that I know. Even one street too far in any direction means getting completely lost.
Hearing voices nearby, I turn and see some soldiers passing along the other side of the street, with some men and women seemingly being protected. My first instinct is to turn away, but then – improbably – I realize that I recognize one of the men, and at that moment he happens to glance this way and we make eye-contact.
He slows.
“Charles Bloom,” I whisper, thinking back to the bald-headed man who worked alongside Dad and Diana in the lead-up to the battle.
My chest tightens, and I'm already starting to think that we should run. If Charles is a prisoner of the soldier
s who took the city, that means my worst fears are coming true. The leaders of the city must have been either killed or captured, and they're considered to be enemy combatants. I step back, trying to hide slightly behind Thomas in the hope that Bloom didn't properly recognize me, but a moment later I see that the soldiers have stopped, and then I watch with a growing sense of horror as Bloom starts crossing the street.
And then, shocked, I see that he seems to be smiling.
“Marter?” he calls out. “Elizabeth Marter, is that you?”
“You know this guy?” Thomas whispers.
“It is you,” Bloom continues, clasping his hands together as he grins. “I thought... I mean, I'm sure you'll understand, people I didn't see in the aftermath of the fighting... I suppose I assumed you were dead.”
I guess my father didn't tell him that he sent me away.
“You look well,” he says. “Have you been to one of the food stations yet? Have you received your ration card?”
“I...”
For a moment, I'm not sure what to say. The soldiers are standing back, and they're treating Bloom is if he's more of a commander than a prisoner.
“My father,” I stammer finally, unable to hold back. “Have you seen my father?”
As soon as those words have left my lips, I see a flicker of concern on Bloom's face.
“Elizabeth, please,” he says after a few seconds, before reaching a hand out toward me, “I think you need to come with me. Right now.”
Thomas
“I don't like this,” I whisper to Elizabeth as we follow the bald guy and his buddies toward a building. “I have got a bad, bad feeling about it.”
“Me too,” I reply.
“Then why -”
“Do you have any better ideas?” she asks, still trying to keep her voice low. “I know this guy. Vaguely. He always seemed a bit crazy, but basically okay.” She pauses for a moment. “But you don't have to come with me,” she adds. “Maybe it'd be better if you took Polly somewhere else. I can always find you guys if everything works out.”
“Don't think that idea hasn't occurred to me,” I reply, as the bald guy and the others reach the door at the base of the building and stop to wait for us. “In fact, I'm pretty sure that later on I'm going to wish I'd done exactly that.”
“Then why -”
“Come on, let's just get this over with,” I add. “The sooner we screw this up, the sooner we can start fixing it. Now don't forget to smile.”
***
“We're using this building as a temporary base of operations for this sector of the city,” Charles Bloom – that's his name – explains as he leads us across the gloomy foyer of some old bank. “It's proven necessary to separate out control. We each have our own little kingdom, if you like.”
“I thought this guy was on your Dad's side,” I whisper to Elizabeth. “He sure seems -”
“What's that, young man?” Bloom asks, stopping and turning to me. He's still grinning.
“Well...” I glance around and see that everyone seems to be looking straight at me. “I don't mean to be rude,” I continue, figuring that I might as well ask, “but were you with one of the armies that entered the city? Or were you already here? 'Cause I was kind of under the impression, from what my friend told me, that she knew you. Which means you must have been here.”
I wait for an answer, but I'm already starting to think that maybe I spoke out of turn.
“You're quite correct,” Bloom replies, and he still has that smile. “I'm a man of peace, as I imagine young Elizabeth will happily confirm. I was on the side that ostensibly lost the battle, but I very quickly realized that somebody would need to act as an intermediate once the fighting was over. To that end, I offered my services, and I'm pleased to say that they were accepted. I'm playing my own small, but well-intentioned, part in the battle to secure a lasting peace.”
“He's such a shape-shifter,” Elizabeth whispers.
“I beg your pardon?” Bloom asks, turning to her.
“I'm looking for my father,” she continues, raising her voice a little but still sounding fearful. “That's all I want. Do you know where he is?”
“Your father was a good man,” he replies. “In all honesty, it was difficult to keep track of everyone during the battle, and we still haven't established what happened to everyone. Your father is included in that number.”
“So he might still be alive?” Elizabeth says with a hint of hope.
Bloom hesitates for a moment.
“He very well might be,” he says finally. “And if there is anything I can do to help you find him, then my services are of course at your disposal. In the meantime, I know that your father would want me to extend every courtesy to you, and to make sure that you're safe. That goes for your friends, as well. The accommodation we offer is not exactly luxurious, but it's not too bad, considering the circumstances. At least it's safe and clean, and you'll have food beyond the ration system. I very much hope that you'll accept our hospitality.”
I turn to Elizabeth, and I can see that she's uncertain.
“We might as well,” I whisper to her. “It's better than being stuck outside.”
I wait, but she's staring at Bloom and it's pretty obvious that she isn't comfortable with this arrangement.
“We'd love to,” she says suddenly, surprising me. “Thank you, Charles.”
“It's the least I can do,” he replies, before turning as a soldier hurries over and whispers something in his ear. I try to listen, but I only make out a few words and none of them make much sense. “And now,” he continues, “if you'll excuse me, I must go and attend to some urgent matters, but I'll have someone look after you and then perhaps we can talk again later. It's good to see you, Elizabeth. There has been so much unnecessary loss of life here in the city. I can only pray that now we can all focus on building together for the future.”
With that, he turns and follows the soldier toward some doors in the distance.
“Well, he seems creepy,” I whisper to Elizabeth.
“He always has,” she replies, watching him as he goes. “He's like a chameleon. He changes his colors to match whatever, or whoever, is around him. I don't think I like people like that. I also think he was -”
“Would you like to come this way?” a female voice asks.
We both turn and find that a tall, blonde-haired woman is standing right behind us, smiling a smile that actually seems even more fake than Bloom's smile.
“Charles wants you to be given some rooms,” she explains. “Don't worry, you'll be perfectly safe. Do you have a preference for a high or low floor in the building?”
“High,” Elizabeth says, at the exact same moment that I saw “Low.”
I turn to her, then back to the woman.
“Low's fine,” I add.
“You don't have to come with us,” Elizabeth points out.
“I know that,” I tell her. “And it's not like I'm going to be hanging out with you all the time. I'd like a room, but after that I want to go and look for a few people myself. There's also Carter. I don't know where she is and what she's doing, but you know what she's like. She'll pop up eventually, and I figure I'd like to stay on her good side.”
I wait for her to reply, but then I realize that the woman is not only watching us, but listening to us too.
“So my name's Caitlin,” she says, smiling and reaching out a hand, “and I want to make sure that you get everything you need while you're here. I'm afraid you've arrived just as we're trying to figure out a few things, so it might be a day or two before you're assigned to a work-force, but in the mean-time you can just chill and try to get used to things. How does that sound?”
I turn to Elizabeth.
“That sounds good,” she says, although she doesn't sound convinced. After a moment, she turns to me. “Right, Thomas?” she continues. “We can get our bearings.”
“Sure,” I reply, although I can't shake the feeling that Elizabeth's up to some
thing.
“This way,” Caitlin says, and we start following her past the soldiers and toward a set of escalators. “Watch out for the Walker effect.”
“The what?” I ask.
“Sorry, the escalators don't work. So watch out for that weird feeling you get.”
As we start following her up, I see exactly what she means. Even though the escalator isn't moving, I feel kind of off-balance, almost dizzy. The metal steps seem to clang quite loudly beneath my feet, and I'm struck by the sense that I'd really rather get to the top as fast as possible.
“So did you hear that Bloom guy being told about a train?” I ask Elizabeth.
“A train?”
“When that soldier went and whispered to him, I'm sure I heard him say something about a train.”
“You probably just mis-heard,” she replies.
“And something else, a phrase I hadn't heard before, like... Project Atherus? Otherus? Otherius?”
“Who knows what kind of things they're up to?” she replies. “I'm sure we'll find out later. If it's important, anyway.”
“So what are we going to do?” I ask, as we get closer to the top of the escalator. “We need a plan.”
“You can do whatever you want,” she says, “but I'm going to figure out what's going on here, and then one way or another I'm going to find my father.”
Elizabeth
Look at it. The whole vast city, spread out before us in darkness now that night has fallen. There are a few lights in various places, a few fires burning to keep people warm, but most of Boston is lit only by the moon. And as I stand here at a window, high up in the old bank building, I can't help thinking back to those first few days in New York when Henry and I would look out across another creepily dark city.
“So I guess it's too late now to go looking for your father,” Thomas says.
