He didn’t yet know the balance of being supportive versus overbearing – especially when his betrothed was basically a newborn in regards to what he considered to be normal life. Until recently, she had never felt the warmth of the sun, never picked a flower, never touched an animal. It was quite amazing to watch. But life on the surface was also much more dangerous for her than he had realized it could be.
With his father looking on, Jonah sighed and sat on a stump to catch his breath.
He looked across the horizon, noticing that the leaves on several trees were beginning to change to shades of orange and red. He hadn’t realized it until this moment, as his attention had been incredibly focused on one thing.
He was tired. And running himself at full speed probably wouldn’t even get him back home any quicker. But it would make him less useful when his body forced him to rest.
“Doc thinks everything’s fine – he knows how to cook for her, her sunburn is finally fading, and she’s not stuck in bed all day,” Thomas reassured his son. “And even if that wasn’t the case, nothing you could do would make her heal any faster.”
Jonah continued to study the contrast of growing fall colors against the blue sky.
“I know,” he said, still catching his breath. “I guess I’m not as worried about her health. I’m just worried about her. She’s got to be scared. She doesn’t have anyone but me. I’m the one that pulled her out of the Facility, and now I’m leaving her. And there are still a handful of people in town that don’t trust her or are afraid of her.”
Thomas put his hand on his son’s shoulder.
“First of all, bud,” Thomas said, “she has us. You brought her to our family. Whenever things calm down she’ll be a Whitfield, but until then you know we’re treating her like that’s already the case.”
Jonah nodded.
“Second,” he continued, “she lives on the surface now – not in that underground town. It will do her some good to get used to some of this without you around. If you’re always protecting her, there’s a certain part of her that will always be scared of things up here. Obviously, we’ll still be here keeping her safe, and Lillian is really excited to keep showing her how to do things that are normal for us. She has to go through some of the fear if she’s ever going to feel like this is home.”
They both sat in silence for a while, Jonah processing what his father said. He knew it was true, but it was hard not to feel like it was a responsibility that rested solely on his shoulders. He also knew that a responsibility like that was not one that he could bear.
“And third,” Thomas said, as if suddenly realizing he had a third point, “it’s important for you to go help build the outpost for a lot of reasons. You need to show the rest of the town that you’re the same old Jonah that they all know, and that we’re all on the same side. They need to know that you’re not somehow choosing that underground town over ours; that you’re going along with the decision that was made by our people.”
Jonah was a little confused, because he didn’t see sides in the issue, as if there were two towns at war. But he did understand that some of the town did see it that way.
Thomas continued, “and you can also reassure everyone out there that they don’t have to worry. If the folks back here can interact with Talitha, I think everyone will come around. So while you’re out there, just keep telling them what you’ve already told them – that there isn’t going to be some army rising up out of the Deathlands, and that the only people that might come out of there are just trying to escape something. As you know, when people don’t talk about something, it can easily take on some sort of life of its own and turn into a ghost story.”
Jonah hoped that the truth would put people’s minds at ease, though he realized the situation he left might actually be causing some sort of trouble in the Facility. It might not be the worst thing to prepare for an enemy of control officers led by men like Talitha’s father – but not to the extent that the rest of the town might fear. But he was also wondering if anyone would ever show, since everyone else in the Facility seemed to be happy with the way things were.
“Sorry, by the way,” Thomas’ voice cut through Jonah’s thoughts.
Jonah looked at his father, surprised.
“For what?”
Thomas looked in the direction of the Deathlands, far off into the distance.
“For not answering your questions when you asked them, the day you came back from Schultz’s talking about China,” he said. “Honestly, I didn’t know hardly anything – still don’t – but I shouldn’t have shut you out because of my own fears. You’re an adult now, and that means I should treat you like one all the time. Especially considering what you’ve had to go through for this family because of my leg.”
He tapped his cane against his foot.
“Obviously, I had no idea about what was actually under the Deathlands, but I should have been willing to talk. At that point, you probably already knew more than I did, but maybe I could’ve helped in some way other than answers.”
Jonah stood.
“Dad, you don’t have to apologize. I understand why you—”
“No, Jonah, I do have to apologize,” Thomas said. “That’s what grown-ups do when they’re wrong.”
Jonah hugged his father, muttering “Thanks.”
“Now, get yourself on that horse. I think you’ve taken a long enough break,” Thomas said smiling.
Jonah smiled back at his father.
.- -.-. -
Schultz helped Jonah unload some of the contents of the wagon near the edge of the Deathlands. They weren’t as close to the desert as Jonah was used to being on his hunting trips, but many of the townsfolk were obviously nervous. As they milled about, many of them watched the cracked expanse as if it would suddenly jump out and consume them.
Schultz had been asking Jonah question after question about the Facility and the machines it contained. The two of them had not had much of a chance to talk since Jonah returned with Talitha, partly because Jonah was so preoccupied, but also because Schultz wasn’t much for inserting himself into the middle of dramatic situations. And there had been plenty of drama surrounding the Whitfields. Several times he had stopped by the Whitfield home to make sure they were okay, but Jonah had not been there. He was happier to get things done without making a fuss about it.
“…and the fire bulbs stay on all the time? Even though you never saw nobody pedalin’ a gear or nothin’?” Schultz was completely dumbfounded.
“Not just the fire bulbs,” Jonah answered. “All of the walls would light up, and they had moving pictures of people or words on them. Same with the things they all had on their arms – what they called the wristiles.”
“Wow,” Schultz breathed. “I’ve been workin’ for years, trying to get that one fire bulb in my shed to stay lit up after I stopped pedalin’, but never could. And they got a whole town full of ‘em!”
“Wait,” Jonah asked as the two of them finished unloading the supplies. “Would you want to ride over to the entrance and look into it?”
Schultz’s eyes widened – first out of excitement, then with an obvious hesitation.
“Not sure we should,” he answered after a pause. “Some of the folks here probably wouldn’t like it none if the two of us all of a sudden took off on horseback into the Deathlands. Ever-body’s pretty spooked, and I won’t lie and say I ain’t a little bit, too.”
Jonah thought for a moment, looking at the flag he had placed at the edge of the desert. He unhooked his horse from the wagon and jumped into the saddle.
“What’re you up to?” Schultz said, again wide-eyed.
“Everybody, listen up,” Jonah yelled, riding over to where most of the townsfolk had gathered.
Everyone in the group stopped what they were doing and looked up at him. Anyone who couldn’t hear ran towards them to figure out what was happening.
“I know we’ve all heard stories about the Deathlands,” Jonah continued t
o yell when all eyes were on him. “But none of the ghost stories are true. As strange as the truth is, there are normal people underneath all that dirt. And even though they’re not like us, they’re still just people. They’ve got families and work—”
Jonah paused in his head. Well, I’m not sure that it’s really work, he thought. But he didn’t want to get caught up describing details that didn’t matter at the moment.
“—and they eat and sleep just like us. If anybody wants to go with me, I can show you the entrance that I found, so that you would know what you should be watching for. But mostly so you know that there’s nothing to be afraid of out there.”
The crowd was silent for a moment.
“That’s stupid,” Raymond sneered.
Jonah’s heart sank.
He wished that Raymond hadn’t come, since he was the one that had originally generated all of the fear amongst the townsfolk. And he wasn’t a hard enough worker to contribute to what they were doing out here. Jonah assumed that Raymond came for the sole purpose of causing trouble.
“I’m comin’ with you,” Schultz yelled while mounting his own horse.
Jonah smiled with relief.
“You’re stupid too, Schultz,” Raymond screamed. “The two of you are going to start this war before we’re ready! Did you make some kind of deal with those cave monsters or something, that you’d lead us right to them?”
“Wait, Mr. Cowel,” Jonah said. “There is no war. I understand that we want to prepare for some of them coming out of there, and I think that’s a good idea. But they’re just people, and many of them are stuck down there and don’t want to be.”
“Hush up now, Raymond,” Schultz snipped as he rode his horse beside Jonah. “When’ve you ever been worried about the good of this town before? All I ever seen you worried about was where you sat down yer bottle.”
A snicker passed through the crowd. Raymond’s face scrunched up and turned red as he started moving towards the two of them.
“Schultz, I’ll knock you off that horse faster than you—”
“Alright, y’all,” Schultz yelled, cutting Raymond off. He held his foot up a few inches from Raymond’s face, to show him that he had the upper hand. “Jonah here’s the only one that has stepped a foot on the Deathlands, and I tend to listen to him more than a drunkard. We can all keep lookin’ over our shoulders while we build this here outpost, afraid that some monster’s gonna swallow us up. Or we can listen to this young man who has seen things with his own two eyes.
“I, for one, would rather see what we’re all so afraid of, instead of being scared of somethin’ that ain’t even there. Nobody’s forcin’ none of you to come with us. But I got my horse and my gun, and if that doesn’t help me none if they attack me now, then it won’t help me none if they attack all of us later.”
The townsfolk looked at each other, some nodding and some still shaking their heads. Jonah didn’t love the thought of the group stampeding through the Deathlands with their weapons drawn, but he hadn’t much thought things through that far. Most of them had a gun on them at all times anyhow, so it wasn’t much different than a normal ride.
As long as he could keep them calm.
Several townsfolk mounted their horses and joined Jonah and Schultz. Raymond walked away from the group grumbling, clutching onto his rifle like a security blanket.
After almost half of the group joined them, they headed into the cracked plain, following the flags that still stood in bright contrast against the gray. Their horses kicked up dust, disturbing the land for the first time in centuries.
After they stopped around the last flag, they all stared at the uncovered object. The rusty valve wheel hovered above the polished metal hatch. They studied it as best as they could from horseback, dust settling all around them.
A voice said, “That wasn’t a quick ride at all.”
They all looked at the distance they had traveled, no longer seeing anything but a single flag in the direction from which they came. It wasn’t quick, but it was much faster than by foot or on Jonah’s bike.
“Yeah, we’re quite a ways in,” Jonah said as he jumped down from his horse. “And the people in the Facility don’t have horses or anything else that they can bring with them to speed up the journey to the edge.”
Some stayed on their horses, but most everyone else followed Jonah’s lead and dismounted. They gathered around the uncovered hatch that Jonah knew so well. Nothing had changed.
“Everybody stay quiet,” Jonah said. “There’s a really long ladder underneath here, so I don’t think anyone will hear us, but there’s no reason to bring any attention to ourselves in case they’ve also posted some folks, afraid that we’re coming for them.”
They exchanged nodding glances, some with their guns in their hands, others with their fingers brushing holsters.
After he could see that everyone was calm, Jonah twisted the metal wheel covering the opening. It moved much easier than the first time he had tried it, but it still gave him quite a bit of resistance. Rust ground against the polished metal as he forced the wheel around until it stopped.
“Schultz,” Jonah said, smiling. “Prepare yourself for a whole bunch of fire bulbs.”
Schultz grinned in anticipation, while everyone else poised for action. Jonah braced himself and lifted up on the wheel.
And nothing happened.
The hatch didn’t budge, much like the first time he tried to open it. He continued to tug, wondering if it had somehow gotten stuck from being locked for a while.
“Pull it harder,” a voice directed.
“I’m pulling as hard as I can,” Jonah said, a little frustrated.
“Did you turn it all the way?” another asked.
“Yes,” Jonah answered.
He tugged for several minutes, then backed away from it.
A few men near Jonah went to the hatch, timidly at first, turning the wheel the opposite direction until it stopped again. They lifted with the same result – nothing.
Several others joined in, turning and tugging to no avail.
After a while, Schultz, who was sweating from struggling against the hatch, stepped back and joined Jonah sitting on the ground.
“I’m thinkin’ they locked us out from the inside, Jonah,” he said.
“Yeah,” Jonah said, nodding his head.
Not that he thought she wanted to, nor did he want her to, but he assumed there was always the possibility.
Talitha could never go back.
CHAPTER FOUR
Quilen Coomy jerked forward in bed, awakened by a scream. At first he looked around in the dark, expecting to find the source. It sounded a lot like the boy whose execution he recently oversaw, but then he realized the sound was still coming out of his own mouth.
He stopped screaming.
Without even stirring, Gabet said groggily, “Go back to bed, Talitha.”
She was still asleep.
Quilen’s heart raced as he wiped the sweat that was covering his forehead. His entire body was shaking. He stumbled out of bed and stubbed his toe while trying to put on slippers, partly because of the dark and partly because a piece of him was still in the nightmare he was having.
Not a nightmare, he thought. A memory.
He’d been reliving the moment of the execution every night since it happened. All of his dreams for the past two weeks were set in that tiny unit, watching the eyes of a fourteen-year-old boy walk into an incineration unit.
Those eyes. They had fear, yes – but not at all like the fear that he had ever seen in anyone he knew. Not like the fear he had seen in his own reflection on a daily basis. He saw enough of that kind of fear to know it was out of self-preservation.
Azazel’s fear was different. It was somehow strong. Quilen saw courage.
He’d heard the word courage before, but he associated it with the Leaders that he followed and tried so hard to become. He assumed it had to do with power. But he learned what it truly meant by wat
ching Azazel stand firm at the fire’s edge for a crime that both of them knew he didn’t commit.
He saw the strength in the boy’s face, but at the same time he saw an acceptance. As if he realized there was no other way for life to go on in the Facility. For the laborers.
For the Midlet!
The simple words that Azazel shouted reverberated through Quilen’s head. This boy cared more about his people than himself.
Quilen had met with numerous laborers the day he saw Azazel. The others had families, or had skills that would be difficult to quickly replace. Throughout the day, he received several more messages from Mr. Gisk pressuring him to find someone – anyone – who could be the “last face of terrorism.”
Azazel wasn’t much younger than Talitha. Looking at the dirt covering the boy’s tattered clothing, Quilen decided he was simply having mercy on him. Laborers are to be pitied, after all, and this boy would probably rather die than spend the rest of his life struggling with back-breaking assignment posts.
Quilen didn’t let Azazel know what was happening – Mr. Gisk handled that by video feed into the boy’s prison unit. He didn’t hear everything that was said, but definitely heard Gisk threatening anyone that Azazel might love if he didn’t go along with the execution quietly. Mr. Gisk was always very persuasive, and knew how to pinpoint what made someone act.
Quilen saw that the boy didn’t want to die – he indeed would have rather continued to live in what the citizens saw as a miserable existence. Strangely, however, in the short conversations that they shared after their initial meeting, Quilen realized the laborers might be far more alive than he was.
But he was the reason that the boy was dead. He could blame Gisk all he wanted, and the fact that he was simply following the orders of his superior, but he couldn’t escape what he knew to be true deep down. The boy wouldn’t have done the same thing to him if the roles had been reversed. The boy had enough strength to sacrifice himself rather than let one of his friends die.
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