by M. D. Massey
“Oh?” I feel a bit overwhelmed by the enthusiasm with which everyone speaks in this place. My mind drifts momentarily to Rachel and Marcus, seeing before me a life denied to both of them.
“Ah, speaking of which.” Eva continues, turning back towards me. “Why don't you come have dinner with us tonight? We can give you an insider’s perspective on this place. I'll send Rose to come pick you up.” She glances towards Maggie. “If that is alright with you, that is.”
Maggie shrugs. “Well, I don't see why not. The remainder of the tests do not begin until tomorrow. I think it might be good for you to get to know some of the others close to your age, Ash.”
“Um... sure, okay,” I reply.
Eva and Maggie exchange a few more words. Thorn watches me with intense curiosity, eyes unwavering until, just as sudden he turns his attention to one of the toddlers on the carpet in the middle of the room, rolling a red rubber ball to the delighted, squealing child.
“The nursery used to be much larger,” Maggie says after we exit the room. “But as you can imagine, it is difficult as the children age up. Do you have any questions at this point?”
“Yes. Why do I have to go through these tests? Is it because I lived out there?”
She pauses just at the elevator, her eyes wide. “Oh, Ash. You still don't see it, do you?”
“See what?”
“That first case, the successful one in which we were able to localize the antibodies... Ash, that child was you.”
I do nothing to soften the glare I aim at her.
“The experiments indicated an antibody within your blood which could be drawn out to perfect the vaccine before it became too late. I adopted you right away, of course, raised you as my own. They called you Baby A when you first arrived at the facilities. It was I who named you Ashley. The name suited you. ”
The elevator doors open. Without a word, I step inside.
“We kept you in the laboratory,” she continues as she follows me in. “Oh, I know it sounds dreadful, but knowing what we did, we felt we had no choice. It was not nearly as clinical as it sounds. You had a nursery and around the clock care. As you grew, we made sure your every need was met. There was a playground, you might remember.”
“A playground,” I repeat the word trying to recall the meaning.
“When the Fall happened it came on faster than we had anticipated, even in our worst case scenarios. We did not have time to trigger the quarantine protocol fast enough. It's a shame really. We were right on the verge...”
She stops and a distant gaze drifts across her face.
“But as I said,” she waves her hands, brushing aside whatever memory had made her pause, “we have all the time in the world now. The room we have for you is an exact replica. We did our best to replicate it, hoping it might trigger your memories. The clothes are different of course. Somehow during your absence, you have managed to turn into a young lady.”
The door slides open and we step out onto an open air patio. Concrete leading to a walled edge. I can see by the placement of the other buildings that we are on the top of the wall surrounding the compound. I follow her to the edge and see a birds-eye view of the courtyard below. At this height, the wind whistles around us, pulling my hair every which way around my head. I clutch my arms across my chest against the chill.
“When you were evacuated,” she continues. “The memory chip in your brain was triggered to erase any evidence of your upbringing.”
“Memory chip...” I say. “That's why I can't remember.”
“Yes. Implanted when you were still an infant. I'm so sorry it had to come to that. Powerful people knew of your potential. It would have been dangerous for you to fall into the wrong hands.”
“More dangerous than living in a world of flesh-eating monsters?” I say, between chattering teeth.
“I think we both know that would not present much of a danger to you. Isn't that right?”
She crosses over to the other side of the wall. I follow her over, seeing the outside world once more, the world from which I came. In the distance, I spot a metal chain fence marking yet another layer of security. The space in between is filled with zombies, roaming and mindless, creating an unbreakable barrier surrounding the outer wall of the compound. Whatever veneer of politeness between us since I awoke in that blinding room begins to drift away into the distant, white sky.
“Ashley,” she says. “I raised you. I know you don't remember, but you are like a daughter to me. I want, perhaps more than anyone here, for the series of tests to be as easy as possible for you.”
I place my hands on the grainy concrete edge of the wall.
“But,” she hesitates, glancing down at the expanse of gnarling monsters below us. At first, I think she is expressing regret but when she returns her gaze to me, what I see in her eyes sends chills down my spine. “If we have to, we can do this the hard way. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” I keep my expression frozen as I reply. It is clear I need to play along for now.
* * *
The doors slide open and I step out of the elevator into the courtyard. She parted ways with me on the third floor, returning to the laboratory and insisting that I go and explore the compound. The solitude feels good, especially after the exchange on the wall. I find myself missing the outside, despite its unpredictable dangers.
I stroll along the path circling the edge of the patio. Rose is standing at a table close to me, stacking the plates and moving the utensils to the top of the pile. As she reaches across the table, her hand pauses. She does not look my way, but I know without any doubt that what she does next is for my benefit. Her hand pauses at the edge of the plates, her index and middle fingers forming a V shape, just for a moment before she relaxes her hand and picks up the stack of plates. The signal, ever so brief, flashes in my mind, waking a long dormant memory.
Something bad had happened. Everyone was panicking. Running, screaming. The young woman scientist who had always been nice to me, clutched my arm just above my elbow, pulling me along at a steady pace down the hall.
“Get her over the mountains,” she said. “She'll be safe there.”
“Which way?”
“East. Get her to the coast and she'll be safe.”
The tall, brown-skinned man grabbed me from her and rushed me to the car. On some level, I knew what was happening as he ushered me into the vehicle. In a way I did not yet understand, this was about me. All of it.
The wheels skidded out of the parking lot of the building, chaos erupting all around us. His fingers flashed the 'V' to the woman in the window, the one who had grabbed me from my room, the one who had saved me. She stood at the window peering down at us. Lost forever, because the containment border had already been closed behind us.
I twisted my head around, trying to catch a glimpse as we sped away from my home. The last thing I saw was the woman standing there, one palm at the window, tears streaming down her face. Her other hand held up as a symbol of rebellion, her fingers signaled the V back to him.
Not even a moment has passed. Our eyes meet for another second. Her face remains expressionless. She turns back to her work, picking up the dishes and disappearing back inside. For a moment, I think I have imagined it all. I have no idea what the V symbolizes, but the rush of memory allows me a newfound clarity. There is more going on here than I realize. Much more.
11
I find no weaknesses in the walls of my room. Other than the door and the window overlooking the courtyard, there are no seams anywhere. I examine the window pane, a plexiglass of some kind, determined by the way it subtly springs back from my fingertips when I apply pressure. Unbreakable. This is a gilded cage, and I am its prisoner. I sit down at the edge of the bed and consider my next move.
At my window, the sun crosses the sky, appearing like a distant burnished coin hanging against a white canvas. The cloying décor of the room makes me feel uncomfortable. The surroundings are so unnatural here. At le
ast at Eden's farm, most of my time was spent outside. The 'V' must be a code of some kind. I need to find out more.
The grumbling in my stomach reminds me that I need to eat again soon. Rose should be by to pick me up at some point. The lack of urgency at finding a meal, of not having to scavenge and hunt for food, still feels strange to me. I could just walk down to the courtyard and someone would bring me food. It feels like cheating.
The sharp squawk of the buzzer breaks my reverie.
“Hi,” the red-headed girl says with a wide smile when I open the door. “I hope you're hungry. Mom's made fettuccine and meatballs. We haven't officially met, I guess. My name is Rose.”
She juts her hand out towards me, and I tentatively clasp her fingers with my own.
“Sorry, I tend to talk a lot when I'm nervous. Come on. We can take the stairs. Most of us do. No one wants to be stuck in the elevators when the power goes out. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, it's kind of a bitch. The solar power is touch-and-go depending on the time of year.”
She continues speaking as we head down the hallway. We step through to the stairs and head up. With some bit of surprise, I find myself drawn to her, as if we could have been friends in another lifetime.
“We live on the fifth level,” she continues. “Ashley, right?”
“Ash. I feel more comfortable if you call me Ash.”
Their apartment exudes a homey vibrancy, so different from the abandoned shells I was used to on the outside. Eva moves in and out of the kitchen, where inviting smells waft towards us. Off the main room is a man sitting at a desk, pouring over a collection of papers. He pushes up the thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, squinting from the documents up to the blue glowing screen at the corner of his desk.
“Hi, Dad,” Rose chirps.
“Hello,” he mumbles, eyes scanning back and forth across his documents.
Eva brings a bowl to the center of the table, filled with a food I have never seen before. Some kind of pasta with a thick red sauce. Tiny orbs of meat line the edges of the bowl. It smells divine. Rose's father appears and takes his seat, portioning out a serving onto his plate.
“This must be quite a change for you, Ash,” Eva says taking the seat across from me. “Rose, do you mind to call your brother and let him know dinner is ready?”
“Thorn!” Rose calls down the hall loud enough to make me jump. He appears a moment later, skulking into the room and giving me a wary glance as he takes his seat at the table.
“It is a bit of an adjustment,” I reply to Eva.
“Well, it is certainly a pleasure to finally meet you. The kids learned about you in school, you know. Your childhood is part of the curriculum.”
Some of the words she uses don't have a meaning, but I stay silent.
“You know,” Rose says, leaning in next to me. “You're practically a celebrity around here. Everyone wants to know about you. The real you anyway.”
“What's a celebrity?”
“Wow. You really are just like they say...” Rose's father leans forward, joining the conversation for the first time. “Remarkable!”
“And what do they say?” I reply, feeling the same annoyance as when my crossbow jams.
“That you are like a wild animal,” he continues.
Out of the corner of my eye, Thorn rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
“Oh, I don't mean that in a bad way,” he sputters. “Not at all! It's just that, I mean... we've never met anyone from the outside before. Much less...”
“You'll have to forgive our dad,” Thorn says in an even tone. “He can't seem to shut down his scientist's brain over dinner. Everything is a specimen to him. Something to be studied and poked at. Isn't that right, Dad?”
“Boys,” Eva interjects. “Let's not start. We have a guest this evening. Let's behave ourselves. Shall we?”
“You know what?” Rose says, the brightness in her voice immediately lightens the atmosphere. “A bunch of us are meeting at the rec room tonight after dinner, around eight o'clock. You should come. Everyone is just dying to meet you.”
Dying to meet me? I wonder. This place is a mystery, but I am comforted by the presence of this family. It is not difficult to understand, as I observe the banter between them all, that the jabs are meant in a friendly way. Their father, I find out, is one of the scientists and works in the lab with Dr. Donovan. I eat the rest of my food, enjoying once more the foreign feeling of not having to hunt for it.
“I hate to ask this,” I say quietly to Rose as the adults are cleaning up the table after. “But what does 'eight o'clock' mean?”
Her eyes widen for a moment before she smiles and begins her explanation. “The power grid goes down at ten. Most of the kids like to meet up at the end of the day, just to chill for a few hours before curfew.”
I have no idea what she means. Now and then a phrase will spark a moment of recognition, an echo of familiarity from a long time ago. But despite these fleeting hints of clarity, I cannot find a way to place the words in context in my mind. It makes me feel disconnected from everyone around me.
“Why don't you kids go on over,” Eva says with a smile. “I'll come and pick you up in time for curfew.”
Rose nods and grabs my hand. “You ready to learn how to play ping pong?”
“Um...sure.”
“Thorn, are you coming?”
“Yeah, I'll come.”
We move quickly down the hallway with Thorn following along behind us. The memory of the signal, the 'V' shaped fingers, continues to bug me. Perhaps it means something different here than it had from my childhood. Perhaps I had imagined the whole thing. Since this afternoon, I had not seen anyone using the sign again.
* * *
We arrive at the rec room. The kids gathered, range in age from maybe ten to the late teens, close to Rose's age. Games are scattered everywhere. Colorful boxes and books line the shelves. In one corner a couch and large plush seats surround a small table. There are about twenty kids in all, more people than I have ever seen in my life. Not counting the zombies of course.
When we enter the broad room, I sense a shift in everyone's attention. A few eyes dart my way and the lively conversation drops into a subtle murmur. Rose gives me an encouraging smile and takes me over to one of the game tables.
“You have to understand,” she says in a quiet voice so only I can hear. “Everyone here has grown up on the inside. You are the only one who knows what it's like out there.”
“I guess that's true.”
Rose picks up a paddle and gestures to the other one at my end of the table.
I pick it up, watching her to see what happens next. She picks up the tiny white ball and volleys it towards me, creating a small pock sound as it hits the table. On instinct, I block it with my paddle, sending it back towards her. She hits back. We go back and forth like this for a while. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice everyone watching us, one at at time putting down what they are doing and making their way towards us.
“She's good,” someone whispers.
“Of course she is,” someone else responds. “Think about it.”
“But Rose is the best player on the compound.”
“Shh! Let's see what happens.”
Finally, a hush falls over them as the volleying turns into an intensity between the two of us. Rose leans in, a playful smile dancing on her lips. An emotion sparks within me, a feeling of happiness and warmth underneath my heart. An experience which would be fleeting in my usual life. The volleys speed up. I can see the beading of sweat breaking out across Rose's forehead.
The ball hits the edge of the table just inside the white line, flying wild. I leap for it with everything I have and only just knock it back. The ball sails past Rose, who shrieks as is whooshes past the edge of her paddle. Those watching us break into applause as Rose gasps, hands on her knees and beaming a broad smile.
“That was...fun,” I say.
“Oh, so she does know about fu
n,” Rose says.
“What is it like out there?” a young girl asks from the back of the gathered group. I turn to answer her and realize that every eye is on me, waiting for an answer. I consider what Rose said, that none of them have any idea what the outside is like. I think about the view from the top of the wall. They must have seen it. I sit down on the couch as the others gather around me.
“Have any of you been out there?” I begin.
“No. No one,” the girl replies. “We've heard stories of course, but...”
“There aren't as many as there used to be,” I say. “It isn't difficult to get around. They are easy to avoid, and they don't move very quickly.”
“What's the most dangerous thing about being out there?” an older boy asks.
“When they gather up in a horde,” I reply without hesitation. “If they outnumber you, it could mean trouble. If you can get up a tree or into a shelter, you might have a chance. But the real danger is the people. That kind of world, it messes with people. Everyone is fighting for survival.”
“Have you ever been over the mountains?” Thorn asks. He is leaning against the ping pong table with his arms crossed, standing further back, separate from the others. At first, I don't quite know what he means.
“No, I never have.”
He exchanges a glance with Rose. I almost miss it. Nothing more than a flick of his gaze.
“I have some questions for all of you,” I say. “I've been told that my childhood is something you have learned about. Is this true?”
“It is,” the younger girl says. “Everyone finds out about Baby A around the third grade. The first of your kind. They haven't been able to replicate another one like you.”
“Replicate?” I say. “What do you mean by that?”
“I think Ash has been through enough,” Rose says with sudden intensity. “Besides it's almost curfew. We should let her go and get some rest. We can ask more questions tomorrow when we have time.”
“Incoming!” Thorn stands up, glancing towards the door. A few at the outskirts of the circle head to various game tables, picking up as if they had been playing the whole time. Others flip open their books and take on a pose of lounging against the padded arms of the couch.