Under the Mountain

by Lynda Engler

  An older soldier with black hair and a mustache said, “Stay seated until we are ready for you to leave.” His nametag read S-I-M-O-N.

  Malcolm sounded it out from the letters he knew. Sum on. Salmon? No, Simon. Salmon was a name for a fish, not a soldier.

  Simon put on a chem-rad suit while Miller and the other three stood guard. The weapon he held was not pointed at anyone, but they all knew its deadly force should they try anything. Once Simon was in his gear, Miller donned his own safety suit before the other two men finally got dressed in chem-rad suits too.

  A pre-recorded voice began playing inside the vehicle. “You will exit through the airlock in groups of eight. We have parked in a residential area. The houses here have been washed, removing the contaminants from the walls. Trees and vegetation have been bulldozed. Now the soil must be removed. That is your job. There are shovels waiting outside. Take one. You will work in the areas designated inside the yellow tape. Scoop up the top foot of dirt between each house and load it into the trailer we are towing. Do not stop work until you are done. External lights will activate after dark. Do not try to escape. Guards’ weapons will be aimed at you for the length of the mission. If you try to escape, you will be shot. Once work is finished, you will be free to leave.” The recording ended.

  A group of prisoners went outside of the Spec with the soldier Simon. Group by group, the vehicle emptied, leaving only Miller, Malcolm’s group, and three other prisoners. Miller directed those three to enter the vehicle’s airlock exit, but before Malcolm could follow them, the soldier keyed the numerical code and the airlock began its cycle. Only Miller and Malcolm’s group remained inside.

  Miller reached under the bench where he had been sitting and pulled out a backpack. The soldier handed the pack to Malcolm and said, “There is food in here for three days, but only enough for you and your family. Head east, toward the ocean. The area there is riddled with streams and rivers. You can get lost in there, and no one will ever find you.”

  Malcolm was puzzled. He knew Miller was trying to help him, because somehow, Isabella had asked him to, but Malcolm could not work out how she convinced him or why he agreed. “Won’t the other guards stop us?”

  “No. They are all part of my team. We want to stop the use of mutants like this. We believe you are worth something, so please just do as you are told. But don’t let the others see you, because I don’t have enough supplies for all of them, and they might try to take yours. That’s why I had you hang back.” The airlock was once opening again to let the next group enter.

  “So, we can just go?” asked Clay, screwing up his face in confusion, but also showing an eagerness to accept his newfound luck.

  Miller nodded. “We will look the other way. All of you can leave, but your group is the only one that has been inoculated, and only you have supplies. Be quick – we really don’t know how effective that shot is, and this is a highly dense area of radiation. The faster you get away from this city, the better. We will stay parked here for a few days and return to Mt. Weather, reporting that the area was cleaned and the mutants were left to die.”

  The little girls had been shifting excitedly from one leg to the other as the men spoke, their animated expressions revealing their enthusiasm. Even Kalla was acting a bit like the jubilant child she used to be by the time they entered the airlock. They would be free!

  Miller entered the airlock with them and keyed the eight-digit code once again. Soon the outer door of the HSPC opened and they left the vehicle.

  Miller shouted through his chem-rad’s suit for everyone to gather. Malcolm’s family waited on the edge of the group, and he turned to hide the backpack from view of the rest of the crowd.

  Miller’s suit radio amplified his voice. “The other HSPC has been posted on the western edge of the city, far from here. You are supposed to clean this city of radiation in the soil, but today you get a free pass. We will put our weapons down, and you will leave. Get away from this city as quickly as you can. Go east, away from the other cleaning crew so they don’t see you. Don’t ask questions, don’t look back, just go.”

  Heads tilted and eyes narrowed in confusion throughout the crowd, but as the soldiers lowered their weapons, mutants began gradually moving away.

  Suddenly, Simon reached down and picked up the guns from the two soldiers next to him, and before they could react, he had Miller’s rifle as well. Realizing that Simon was not going along with the plan, the last two soldiers reclaimed their weapons from the ground and aimed them at Simon. Mutants scattered even faster now.

  Clay whispered urgently in Malcolm’s ear, “Let’s get out of here.”

  As much as Malcolm wanted to run while the guards were distracted, the situation was deteriorating rapidly and running could put them in more risk than waiting it out. In a split-second decision, Malcolm put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and said, “No. You don’t want to be shot in the back. Stay put.”

  Simon had his rifle pointed at Miller’s head now and he shouted to the two remaining armed soldiers. “Drop your weapons or I’ll kill Miller before you can shoot me.”

  When the two men did not obey, Simon roared even louder, “Drop your weapons!”

  The two soldiers might have agreed to free mutants, but it was not worth their friend’s life. They took one final sorrowful look at Miller, as if apologizing for their failure, and dropped their weapons.

  Malcolm and his group remained rooted to their place, and now that Simon had disarmed the traitors, he feared Simon would simply kill all of the mutants. Maybe they should have bolted when they had the chance. Malcolm’s hesitation might have endangered all of them.

  From the corner of his eye, Malcolm saw one of the prisoners on the far edge of the crowd turn and run away from the houses. Simon twisted and fired in one fluid motion, and the prisoner dropped to the ground, blood spider webbing across the back of his shirt.

  “Anyone else want to run,” said Simon, “Now is your chance.”

  No one moved.

  Simon prodded the now-weaponless soldiers with the end of his gun and motioned toward the Spec. “Get inside. All of you. I cannot keep 47 mutants working alone, so we are going back. Miller and Reynolds, you will drive the vehicle back to Mt. Weather. If you do not drive directly there, I will kill every one of your traitorous friends along with every mutant in my vehicle. Your little insurrection has failed.”

  In groups of eight, the captive soldiers and mutants alike went through the airlocks, filling the two vehicles as Simon directed by gunpoint.

  Malcolm surreptitiously lowered the backpack to the ground before walking to the airlock. He was not sure if Simon had seen the pack, but he did not want to get Miller in any more trouble than he already was. Plus, he thought a handful of prisoners might have managed to escape at the beginning and the supplies might do them good if he left them behind.

  * * *

  Isabella

  Isabella’s stomach was rumbling. She had been sitting on the couch for hours, watching ancient movies – all of which were new to her – because she could not get her head around anything else today. Her husband’s fate was on the line and there was absolutely nothing she could do about the events playing out many miles south of Mt. Weather. She looked at the clock. Five o’clock was a little early for dinner, but she was famished.

  Pulling herself out the comfortable lounge chair, she went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She removed a box labelled ‘lasagna’ and put it on the counter, then noticed a yellow envelope icon with her name on it flashing on the screen on the wall.

  Isabella poked it with her finger and a text message appeared.

  ------------------------

  To: Isabella Bellardini

  From: Sgt. Daphne Noble

  Date: Aug. 20, 2101

  Subj: No luck

  Isabella,

  I had no luck with my project today. Will have to try a different tactic. All is well though. I’ll come see you when I’m off duty
at 1800 hours.

  — Daphne

  ------------------------

  She froze in her tracks, suddenly losing her appetite. Despite the brevity of Daphne’s message, Isabella knew exactly what she meant. The insurrection at the cleanup mission had failed. She did not know how, or why, but she did know at least that her family was safe – or at least not dead. They had not been safe since they were captured by the military.

  Daphne would arrive in an hour. Isabella typed and sent off messages to everyone in the Social Dissonance group. Typing was still new to her so it took a couple of minutes to peck out the letters.

  -------------------------

  To: Luke Bellardini, Teagan Reese, Hayden Reese, Mathias Schmidt, Roan Alexander, Vaugh Michon, Maddox Sheffield, Noeni Kekoa, Nuala Kekoa

  From: Isabella Bellardini

  Date: Aug. 20, 2101

  Subj: Plans tonight?

  Hey everyone,

  I want to thank all of you for making me feel so welcome at Mt. Weather and to show my appreciation, I’d like to invite you all over tonight for some home cooking. We can hang out and talk and stuff. Can you come around 6ish? Teagan, would you bring that wonderful music you played for me my first day here please? I’d love to hear more from Social Dissonance, and I think I can contribute too.

  See you soon!

  — Isabella

  ------------------------

  She hoped that they would all understand that given an hours’ notice, this was important, and that Teagan knew she meant the scrambler. Bringing up the music groups name was her code for ‘revolutionary activities,’ and her contribution meant that she had important news to share.

  She also needed to get some food ready. She pushed the package of lasagna back in the fridge, put on her shoes, and went to the nearest market for supplies to make a meal for a large group. It might be a long night.

  An hour later, she had a huge pot of seashell pasta sitting in tomato sauce, boxes of potato and vegetable chips, three large bottles of carbonated juice, and a box of chocolate morsels; all her favorite Mt. Weather foods.

  Luke and Teagan arrived well before 6 pm, Luke bursting through the door with Teagan on his heels. “What happened?” His voice had an apprehensive edge to it.

  “Not sure, but nothing good.” She showed Daphne’s message to him.

  Teagan watched the conversation from the kitchen doorway. “Can I help with anything?”

  Isabella did not need help, but took the older girl’s offer as it was meant – to make her feel better, not because she actually needed assistance taking bowls and glasses out of a cupboard. “Sure. Can you get out some glasses?”

  Daphne arrived at 6:05 in her uniform. Clearly coming to their apartment was more important than changing her clothes this time. Luke ushered her into the living room and she opened her mouth, presumably to recount what happened, but Luke asked her to wait until everyone else got there.

  “Oh,” said the soldier-turned-rebel. “I did not realize others were coming.”

  “Yeah, I messaged everyone and they all replied, except Maddox,” said Isabella, as she opened one of the bottles of carbonated juice. It fizzed as she turned the screw cap and she hoped it would not overflow. The first time she opened one of the unfamiliar bottles – Teagan had called them soda bottles – the liquid erupted in a virtual volcanic flow and went all over the floor. She poured herself a glass of brown soda and joined the others in the living room. “I want to know everything.”

  She gave Teagan a knowing glance and her brother’s girlfriend took the scrambler out of her pants pocket and placed it on the middle of the table, turning on its babbling sounds.

  Isabella perched on the edge of the couch and blurted out almost involuntarily, “Are they okay?” Luke had tried to convince her that they were, after reading Daphne’s message.

  Daphne nodded.

  Isabella heaved a sigh of relief when Luke was right.

  “Shouldn’t we wait for everyone?” asked Daphne.

  Just that moment, the door chimed and Luke leapt to answer it. Hayden, Noeni, and Nuala stood in the hallway. “Hey. There is soda in the kitchen and food too. Grab a glass and a plate.”

  After they had gone inside, Luke spied Maddox down the hall and shouted to the singer, “Didn’t know if you were coming.”

  “Of course, dude, wouldn’t miss a party.”

  Or food, thought Luke, knowing his new friend followed his stomach anywhere it led.

  Luke did not see anyone else so he closed the door and went inside. As he grabbed a glass of soda in the kitchen, the door sounded again. “Murphy’s law,” he muttered.

  “I got it,” said Isabella. “Get your dinner.”

  Mathias, Roan, and Vaugh were the last to arrive, yet somehow the first to be sitting in the living room with a plate of pasta and a glass of soda. Roan shoveled food into his mouth as fast as humanly possible, dripping tomato sauce on his lap. He scooped up the sauce with a fingertip and licked it off his index finger. Isabella wondered how he could be so skinny yet consume enough food for a whole family. Unlike Roan, Maddox’s fondness of eating was predictably evident around his middle and his chubby face.

  Isabella spoke quietly, trying to get used to allowing the scrambler to cover her words. “Daphne, I’m about to implode. Please tell us what happened today.”

  The young soldier drew in a long breath and her face tightened. “The plan did not go as we had hoped. My friend Kirby was able to reach all five of your family members and inoculate them before the cleanup crew left. There were two HSPCs with a crew of six each, and I really believed all six in your family’s vehicle were on our side. They were supposed to be, but one turned out to be… well, basically, a double agent. Corporal Simon. He turned on Miller and the other four, disarmed them, and because he could not guard the cleanup crew and the insurgents, he’s bringing them all back.” Her face was suddenly crimson with fury. “Except for two who ran away and the one prisoner he shot in the back when the man tried to flee.”

  Maddox and Roan, always the most vocal of the group, simultaneously groaned and Hayden slammed his fist onto the side table. Teagan swore. The rest sat in stunned disbelief.

  Nuala spoke, her voice uncharacteristically loud. “I know Corporal Simon. I can’t believe he would betray us like this.”

  Her twin asked, “What’s going to happen to Miller and the others?” She probably already had a good idea what the consequences would be.

  Daphne’s eyes connected solidly with Isabella’s. “Court martial, obviously. Even if they are acquitted, they are lost to our cause for the duration. They’ll be locked up once they get back.”

  This was the second time Isabella had heard Daphne talk about court martial and she did not know what it was, other than they would be cast out of the military. That was not so bad. Was it?

  Isabella spoke her thoughts aloud. “Is that bad? Other than we lose our insiders.”

  “It’s terrible!” returned Daphne, louder than she should have. The scrambler could not cover up all their conversation, but scattered conversation coming through here and there would not set off any alarms depending on what words they were. After all the time they had played at being revolutionaries, no one in the group truly knew what triggered the listening ears to pay attention, but it was a good bet that shouted sentences with “terrible” in them might.

  “Sshhh!” hissed Roan, from across the room, holding a finger to his lips to indicate silence. He turned to the room and explained, much quieter than Daphne had, “Court martial is a bad thing for all of us. They’ll interrogate all five of them, and any one of them could give away names of the rest of us. At Mt. Weather, the military and the civilian government are intimately tied together. The military will prosecute the soldiers, but all of us could be exposed. They would try us for treason.”

  Daphne was nodding up and down as Roan spoke and jumped on his last word before he even finished. “We need to do something, not just for your family Isab
ella, but to save all of us. If we are caught – and now that they’ve got five military traitors, we will be caught – it’s not only the end of Miller and the others, but the end of us too!”

  “And some of us know enough to get in real trouble,” sighed Mathias, pacing the floor. “Like I told Luke when he got here, one of the advantages of having my brother Lester at West Point has been being able to find out codes for the elevator key for level ten, passwords, and guard duty shift change times. I even have the code for the outer cell door to the mutant holding center. That’s enough to land my ass behind a locked door for the rest of forever.”

  Luke looked more thoughtful than Isabella remembered him ever being. “We need to use that intel, Mathias. We need a new plan, not just to save Isabella’s husband, but to save all the prisoners.” He still had a hard time reconciling that his sixteen-year-old sister had a husband, but he was dealing with it.

  “And us,” agreed Daphne.

  August 21, 2101

  Chapter Seventeen

  Malcolm

  The thick, gray walls with no windows left Malcolm no way to tell the passing of time. He guessed it was morning, but with nothing else to do but stare at the cube of concrete, he waited. Eventually he hoped a guard would appear at the barred opening of the cell and bring the gruel that was supposed to pass for food.

  He rolled on to his side and tried to block out the events of yesterday. They had been so close to escape and now they were back in the prison. Buried hundreds of feet beneath the earth, Malcolm was suffocating. He missed Isabella so much his heart ached.

  He knew she was somewhere in the city above him. Did she know they had been brought back to the prison, or did she believe he and their family were free and back Outside? All of the guards who might have gotten a message to her were prisoners now as well.

  He lay there listening to the unnatural sounds of being underground. No wind, no rain, no rustle of leaves, no animal noises, no bird chirps. Inside this massive mountain, conversations came to his ears as echoes, bouncing off the walls, but partially absorbed by the stone and releasing only bits and pieces of their original words.