The entire city was spread out before them. Criss-crossed streets twinkled in a grid of jewels. Insect-like planes were circling the airport off in the distance. And beyond was the ocean, a sheet of steel stretching out to the horizon.
“There it is,” said Jawl. He pointed to a huge building about a mile away down the hill. It was a gleaming white warehouse surrounded by a thin border of neon green grass. “I’m gonna enjoy seeing that monster come down. Kablamm!” Jawl laughed with wild eyes. “Still think we should’ve got some rocket launchers and just taken it out from here.” He brought his machine gun around and pretended to shoot at it while making little kid bang-bang noises.
Off in the distance, the spire at the airport blinked softly. Turning to his siblings, but without anything to say, Ben saw their eyes try to retrace the journey they had made weeks ago. They couldn’t help but try to find their old apartment building amid the jumbles of concrete cubes.
But everyone was dazed at the view and Lorenz had to yell at them to continue. “We’re not there yet, compadres,” he said. “Do not get lost in that stupid dream factory out there. Come on, snap out of it.”
Before Ben finally turned away, he was sure that he had singled out the heap of stained stucco they used to call home.
They turned back, away from the opening of the drainage pipe and into another side tunnel that felt like it was descending into the very center of the earth. After another thirty minutes of marching, Basho stopped. “Here,” he said simply. He swung his machine gun over his shoulder, reached up to the roof of the tunnel, and pulled down a hidden rope ladder. “Milagro’s got smart to us. Da new facilities aren’t linked into da city’s utility tunnels. So we had to make our own entrance, you see.” In the intersection of the flashlight beams, Ben thought he saw a small smile cross Basho’s face. Basho heaved himself up the ladder and started wrestling with something up above. There was a loud “pop” and a beam of light shot down into the tunnel.
They scrambled up out of the hole and looked around like squirrels. They were in the middle of a huge, echoey white room. It took a few seconds for Ben to register that it was a giant kitchen. Along the walls were pots and pans, appliances, and utensils, all brand new and shining like they were still in the showroom.
“We gotta take some of this stuff on the way out!” said Jawl. His voice tumbled around the kitchen, and he immediately began whispering. “I mean, this is some real nice gear!”
“No time for reappropriation, Jawl,” said Lorenz, though he too was eyeing the housewares. “This stuff is just a shoeshine on hell.” He looked at his watch. “Okay, it is eight o’clock. We have exactly one hour before the grand opening. I want to time this exactly so that the building falls just as Milagro is cutting the ribbon. We can detonate the bombs and see it all from that drainage culvert up the hill.”
“Why don’t we just wait until they’ve begun the tour?” asked Jawl with a huge, sadistic grin. “Then we could blow the place up with all of them inside!”
“Calm down. No seas ojete, Jawl,” said Lorenz with a stone face. “Now, each of us has a backpack full of enough explosives to ruin Milagro’s day a hundred times over. Ben, Alison, Basho: you head to the back of the building and find some structural beams. I’ll take Ichor, Thomas, and Omid and do the front. Jawl, you take Fetra, Hannah, and Yan and find some girders in the center. Spread your bags out for maximum effect. And be sure to hide them in case the guards do a final sweep before the ceremony. Press the red button on top of each device to activate it.” Lorenz inhaled deeply. “Okay, no loud noises. Meet back here in ten minutes. Aguila.”
The group scattered three ways. Basho pointed at Alison and Ben and, by touching his lips with the tips of his finger, signaled that they were to follow him without speaking. They entered a hallway at the back of the kitchen that led down past countless doors. The walls, the floors, the ceilings were unbearably white. It made Ben feel like he needed a bath.
They let Basho get ahead of them. “I wonder if Lorenz knows something,” whispered Alison. “He must, or he wouldn’t have separated us.”
“Well, what are we going to do now?” asked Ben. “We can’t escape without Thomas and Hannah.”
“What if this is our only chance, Ben? If we can get away we can tell the police where the Strand is, and then they’ll be able to get Thomas and Hannah back.” Up ahead, Basho was delicately opening each door in the hallway.
“You’re just going to abandon them?” Although Ben used to often dream about life without his snotty little brother, the idea was now sickening. “And besides,” continued Ben, “how would you tell the police where the cavern is? We went through such a maze this morning, I don’t know which direction we were even heading in.”
“I think I know roughly where it is,” said Alison as she squinted her eyes.
“Al, we can’t--” Ben’s voice became louder in exasperation, and Basho shot them a look from up ahead.
“Shhh, “ Alison scolded Ben.
“Yes, you two be quiet,” hissed Basho. “There may still be guards in da building.”
They turned a corner out of the sterile, white hallway and entered a room so big that it could have been an airplane hangar. It was indeed many times bigger than the Strand, which until that moment was the biggest room Ben had ever seen. Ben and Alison had to stop to take it all in, but Basho strode on to the end of the room. He had seen everything before.
The place was hundreds of feet across and deep. From wall to wall were conveyor belts and work stations. Assembly line after assembly line stretched away to the far end of the room.
“Ben . . . what is this?” asked Alison in a horrified gasp. Her voice had lost its confidence and now sounded fragile and distant.
“Well, what did you think it would look like, Al?” said Ben, a lump forming in his throat. “I guess its some sort of a huge factory . . . just like . . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Here then was proof of everything Lorenz had said. Kids really were being forced to work on assembly lines. Although Ben had never really doubted Lorenz, to actually see the evidence up close like this was too much to bear. And here too was confirmation of everything their mother had told them. She had been trying to scare them, yes, but what she had said was true: the city was full of work factories for children.
Seeing Ben and Alison standing numb, Basho came striding back with a look like he was about to curse or strike at them. “You’re a little stunned, I see,” he said with a sudden, unexpected kindness. “I forgot you never seen this stuff before. Even after all da terrible things I seen in my life, this turns my stomach more than anything. Here, give me your backpacks and I’ll place ‘em for you.” Basho took their explosives and jogged back down to the end of the room.
“Alison, maybe this is it,” said Ben. “Maybe we should run. Maybe this is as good as it’s going to get.”
But Alison remained frozen. “It’s like I can hear something, Ben . . . voices.” Alison was shivering. “It’s like . . . the future--the future ghosts of kids. You know how they say ghosts haunt the places they spent their lives? Well, it’s like this place is haunted by the ghosts of the kids who will spend their lives here.”
Basho had placed the devices beside a large red girder at the end of the room and was now walking back. Their chance to escape was disappearing.
“Al, it’s now or never,” said Ben. “What are we going to do?” He grabbed her arm, but Alison was miles away. There were tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and her lip quivered like Hannah’s used to. In seconds, Basho was back and the chance was gone.
“Come on, you two, we have to get going,” said Basho. “I’m sorry you had to see this. Try not to think about it. Besides, no kids will ever have to work here once it’s destroyed, right?” He put his hands on their shoulders and guided them towards the hallway.
Just before they left the gargantuan factory room, they passed a framed picture on the wall. It showed an identical room in another Children’s Faci
lity, one full of kids all working away at their stations on the assembly lines. Each one wore a white apron that said Milagcorp. The few kids who found the energy to look up at the camera had faces so lost and so forlorn that Ben started to hear the voices too. At the top of the photo, above the last line of ant-like kids off in the distance, was scrawled, Celebrating Ten Years of Youth Employment Assistance.
Jawl’s team had already planted their bombs, and Jawl was now looking over the various items in the kitchen. He scratched under his hat and emitted a low, impressed whistle. Muddy footprints all over the white floor made it look like a herd of elephants had stampeded through the kitchen. It was a mess, and their prints led straight to their secret entrance. Hannah, who had been in Jawl’s group, came running over to Ben and Alison as they came into the room. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes seemed to ask, “When?”
“I’m taking this here blender,” said Jawl as he lifted a huge mixing device off the counter. “It’s way better than the one we got back in the Strand. We always fence the useless stuff. ‘Bout time we got somethin’ useful.” He heaved it over to the hole in the floor, his machine gun bouncing around his neck. He tied the rope to the blender and lowered it hand over hand into the darkness below. “Now we just need to find some ice and we’ll be making some proper drinks tonight.” Jawl grinned at Basho, but Basho’s face didn’t shift from his usual stern focus.
“Alison, when are we going to run?” whispered Hannah.
“I dunno,” said Alison.
“Al, when are we going to get another chance?” said Ben.
“No, not here. Not yet,” she said. “There’s going to be a better opportunity, I’m sure of it.” But her face was drawn and blank.
The clatter of hurried footsteps echoed into the kitchen, and a second later Lorenz and his group came trotting into the room. His black spikes bobbed up and down, and there was a wild, panicky smile on his face.
“Ay dios mio!” cried Lorenz in a voice that was half excitement and half terror. “Guards! Back in the hole, let’s go.” Behind him, Thomas came running fast and out of control, his body barely able to keep up with his legs. He slipped on a patch of mud and spun across the kitchen floor in a massive wipeout.
Chapter Seventeen: Count the Raindrops Falling on Your Head
Down in the distance, sprinklers were now casting water in huge arcs over the bright green grass that surrounded the white building. With the sun now fully up, they could see a fat red ribbon stretching across the front door of the Children’s Facility. There was a stage set up in front, and a swelling crowd was spilling off the sidewalk and into the street. Each spectator was waving a small flag as if in giddy anticipation of the arrival of royalty. The people looked to be enjoying themselves far too much for nine o’clock in the morning.
They watched all of this from high above, crowded together in the culvert where two hours earlier they had seen the city begin to unfold in the light of dawn. Now, everything shimmered behind waves of heat. The city, the air, the buildings, the houses, everything looked browner. The building that Ben had been convinced was their apartment was now gone behind the smog. Way off above the ocean loomed huge, puffy clouds, white and soft on top but black and sinister underneath. A deep rumble echoed over the valley.
“It’s gonna rain hard,” said Jawl. “Thought that last storm was gone, but apparently we’re gettin’ another one. Once again, looks like I’ll be missin’ some killer surfing.”
“Just one of many things that ‘aint right,” said Basho. “Too much rain and all da tunnels will flood.”
A long limousine glided down a side street and stopped in front of the huge, applauding crowd. A thin man in a suit and sunglasses got out of the car and spread his arms in adoration of the warm welcome. As he stepped up onto the stage and walked to the podium, he carried himself with an obvious self-importance. He looked smaller than he had on TV the night before.
Milagro’s voice could just be heard, tinny and bird-like, from the culvert. “Thank you all for coming here today. This is a pivotal day in the history of our city and our country. It marks a fundamental stage in the revitalization of our economy and I am honored to be able to play a key role in its development. Standing behind me here is the seventh Children’s Pre-employment Facility in Los Angeles. Inside, as we will soon see, is a state of the art environment full of everything children need to flourish and develop into meaningful members of our new economy.”
There was a burst of applause in the crowd and Milagro paused to let it subside. After ten seconds he had to hold up his hands for everyone to calm down.
“Who are those idiots clapping at that crap?” said Ben.
“They are mostly employees of Milagcorp,” said Lorenz. “Their jobs depend on it, of course.” Milagro lowered his hands and continued. “Taking care of the millions of orphaned and unemployed children in our society has become a national crisis, one that places an enormous burden upon our social services. The Milagcorp Children’s Facilities have saved our society millions of dollars by providing for the care of these underutilized citizens. As well, the Facilities have enriched the lives of these children by giving them the training and skills they need to succeed in our new, revitalized manufacturing economy.”
“When you gonna blow it up, man?” asked Jawl as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “I hate havin’ to hear this junk.”
“Just hold on, Jawl,” said Lorenz. “I want to wait until the perfect moment.” He pulled a black box out of his pocket, extended an antennae, and flipped open a small cover to reveal a small yellow button.
“Oh, come on!” Jawl squealed like a little boy and drummed his fingers against the metal jug of his stolen blender.
They were all crowding around the opening of the culvert, Lorenz up front with his detonation device, Jawl and Basho to his side, and everyone else clambering for a view behind. Ben inched his way back through the bodies and grabbed Alison. Her face was an expressionless void.
“Alison, are we going to run for it?” whispered Ben.
In the darkness away from the edge of the tunnel, Alison’s face was almost invisible. She wouldn’t look Ben in the eye, and just stared into the mud at the side of the tunnel. “I . . . I don’t know, Ben,” she said. “I’m just looking for the right moment--when no one is looking, I guess. I just froze when I saw those assembly lines.” She held her hands up and watched as they shook noticeably. Ben wondered whether he should take control of the situation, but he himself still didn’t know if escaping was the right thing to do. Having now seen the reality of the Children’s Facility and the proof of what Milagro was doing, he now almost felt an allegiance with Lorenz’s army. As he wavered on that issue, something happened that opened up an entirely different part to their world. And everything started to make just a little bit more sense, in a terrifying way.
“Look at that,” said Basho up at the edge of the tunnel. “I’ve never seen so many bodyguards on Milagro. Wonder why they’ve got him covered so well? Damn, I hope they’re not on to us.”
“Nobody is on to us,” said Lorenz calmly. “Rifamos!”
“Ben, look at those men,” said Hannah, tugging on the sleeve of Ben’s camouflage jacket. Ben edged back to the edge of the culvert. Around ten men had assembled on either side of Milagro. They each wore sunglasses and had wires coming out of their ears. And they were all dressed, head to toe, in silver.
“Hey, Ben, those are the same men who stormed into our apartment looking for Mom that day,” Thomas said quietly enough that no one seemed to hear. “Or at least they’re dressed the same way.” Ben couldn’t believe it, but it was true. The men that had taken their mother away in the middle of the night . . . they were Milagro’s bodyguards. Which meant that their mother . . . had stolen something from the richest man in the country and . . . but before everything could sink in, Lorenz started talking.
“Okay, he is getting to the end here, I can tell.” Lorenz’s voice was breathless and tense
. “In a few seconds that whole building will be reduced to a pile of rubble right in front of that idiot.” Lorenz’s index finger hovered above the button.
“Oh, baby! I can’t wait,” said Jawl.
“. . . and so, without further adieu,” Milagro’s voice rang out. “Let us now declare this landmark facility open for business!” The cheering of the crowd echoed between the buildings. Milagro was handed a massive pair of scissors. He strode over to the huge ribbon with his shoulders thrust back.
“Okay, maggots,” shouted Lorenz. “Here we go!”
No one moved. Lorenz’s finger descended on the button.
And nothing happened.
“What the fff . . .” cursed Lorenz. He pushed the button repeatedly. Still, nothing happened. They looked up to see Milagro holding the scissors aloft and the cut ribbon lying on the ground. Massive applause continued. The doors were opened and the crowd streamed into the building.
“Why isn’t it working?” demanded Jawl.
Lorenz was grinding his teeth and looked like he was about to punch someone. He threw the detonator to the ground and looked around accusingly. “What . . . happened?” he roared. “Which one of you did this? Who screwed up?”
“We set all of our bombs properly,” said Jawl. “I checked all of ours, and they were all engaged”.
“Maybe the guards found them,” said Basho in a voice quiet enough that maybe he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
“No,” said Lorenz softly. “No, they must have set up some sort of radio interference or something . . . like they knew . . .” And then his eyes started darting about like fireflies. “It is a trap!” he yelled. “Let’s get out of here!” He pushed passed everyone and sprinted down the tunnel. Everyone instantly got up and ran after him.
But Alison was dumbstruck. She lingered at the end of the culvert, watching the crowd disappear into the facility.
The Fortress of Clouds Page 16