Eve

by Anna Carey

Page 15

  Caleb glanced from her back to me. His mouth hung open but no words came out. My heart thumped hard in my ribcage.

  “It’s not funny,” I finally managed. “I could have had a knife. I could have killed you!” I paced back and forth, smacking one hand against the other for emphasis. She kneeled, her back arched and her face toward the floor. “Arden—look at me. Would you just turn around and look at me?” I yelled.

  Caleb grabbed my arm, pulling me back.

  But Arden kept her head down, her black bob a mess of tangles. She was writhing. Her palm banged on the floor.

  “Arden?” I said again, softer this time. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her cheeks pink and contorted.

  She turned over, her chest heaving. I stood, reaching out my hand, but she didn’t move. Instead her body curled into a tight ball, tensing with great effort. She hacked loudly, her coughs splitting the air. I dropped to the floor. My hand rested on her back as she lurched forward, trying to free her lungs. When she pulled away we both looked down.

  Her palms were covered with blood.

  Chapter Eleven

  “SHE WAS SOAKED THROUGH LAST NIGHT,” I TOLD CALEB when we finally reached the woods outside of his camp. With each mile Arden’s coughs had grown louder, her gait slower, until she could not walk anymore. Caleb and I had taken turns pulling her along in a wagon we’d found, RADIO FLYER scrawled across its side. One minute her teeth chattered and the next she was hunched over the wagon’s side, trying to expel the bloody phlegm from her lungs. Arden had managed to fall asleep, her body hugging the scavenged cans of food. “It must be from the river and the rain. ”

  “I knew a boy who was sick like this once,” Caleb said.

  We hoisted her up, wrapping her arms around each of our shoulders.

  “And what happened?” I asked. Caleb didn’t answer. “Caleb?”

  “It’s probably different,” he said. But his face looked tense, even in the faded light of the night sky.

  “I’m fine,” Arden mumbled, trying to straighten up. The corners of her mouth were caked with dried spit.

  We made our way through the dense gray woods, the leaves tickling my neck as we went. Animals rustled in the brush. In the distance, a wild dog pack howled, hungry for their next meal. Finally the forest spilled out into a clearing, revealing the most dazzling sight I’d ever seen. There, before us, was a giant lake, its inky surface reflecting thousands of stars.

  “Lake Tahoe,” Caleb said.

  I looked up, studying the twinkling white clusters. Some were so bright they looked almost blue. Others faded into the distance like shimmery dust.

  “It’s magnificent. ” But that word didn’t come close to describing the awe I felt then, dwarfed in the presence of the sky. “Look, Arden. ” I nudged her arm. I wished I had my paints and brushes, so that I could try to capture even the faintest impression of the scene. There was only us, the black ring of land, and that brilliant dome.

  But Arden only winced in pain.

  “Where is the camp?” I asked, my awe giving way to dread. “We need to get her inside. ”

  “You’re looking at it,” Caleb said. He approached the steep, muddy incline covered in weeds and fallen branches.

  I watched in confusion as Caleb grabbed a rotted log nestled into the dirt and tugged, revealing a large board the size of a door. He swung it open. Past it was a black hole, burrowed deep into the side of the mountain. “Come on,” he said, gesturing me inside.

  My stomach quaked. My head felt light. Staring into the blackness, my fears returned. It was already so risky to be out in the wild with Caleb. I hadn’t imagined the camp as an underground lair. Aboveground, I could always take off running. But down in the dark . . .

  I took a step back. “No . . . ” I muttered under my breath. “I can’t. ”

  “Eve. ” Caleb offered me his hand. “Arden needs help—now. Come inside. We aren’t going to hurt you. ”

  Arden shivered at my side. She coughed and opened her eyes just long enough to say something that sounded like “listen. ” She leaned on me as I guided her into the dim tunnel, my hands trembling. Caleb closed the door behind me.

  “Come this way,” he said, ducking under Arden’s other arm to help me carry her. As we moved in the dark, the cold dirt wall brushed against my shoulder. The ground was solid beneath my feet.

  “This tunnel—you found it?” I asked, my voice echoing in the hollow cavity.

  Caleb made a sharp right and took us down another tunnel, sensing the path in the dark. “We made it. ” Far ahead, I could hear the sounds of a gathering. Distant murmuring, the clatter of pans, some faint hoots.

  “You built this into the mountain?” I asked. Arden coughed again, her feet limp beneath her.

  Caleb said nothing for a long while. “Yes. ” I could hear him breathing as we walked. “After the plague, I was taken to a makeshift orphanage, in an abandoned church. Kids—boys and girls—were sleeping on pews and in closets, sometimes five of us all huddled together to keep warm. I only remember one adult—the woman who opened the cans of food for us. She called us the ‘leftovers. ’ After a few months the trucks showed up and took the girls to Schools. The boys went to camps—labor camps—where we built things all day, every day. ” Each word was clipped. He kept his eyes on the ground in front of us.

  “When did you escape?” I asked. We moved through the tunnel, toward a light that glowed brighter as we neared it.

  “Five years ago. The excavation was just starting when I got here,” Caleb answered. I wanted to know more, about who was organizing it and how, but I was afraid to press him further.

  We turned and the passage emptied out into a wide, circular room, with a fire pit in the center. The cavern reminded me of an animal’s burrow. The mud walls were embedded with fat gray stones and four other tunnels snaked out from this expansive center. Before we could take another step, an arrow whizzed by my face, nearly clipping my ear.

  “Watch where you’re going!” A boy with large, ropy muscles laughed. He walked over to the wall beside us, where two giant circles were etched, forming a target. His eyes were locked on me as he pulled the arrow out with one good yank.

  A pack of boys was gathered around the fire, their chests bare. When they spotted Caleb they hollered wildly.

  “We were wondering where you were,” a boy with a dome of thick black hair called out. They pounded their fists to their chests in some primitive welcome. My spine stiffened as the boys turned to stare at me.

  “At least hunting was a success,” the one with the arrow hissed. He scanned my bare legs, the long-sleeved shirt that hung loosely over my breasts. I crossed my arms in front of me, wishing I was more covered. “Look what we got here, boys! A lady . . . ” He stepped toward me, but Caleb pressed his palm out to stop him from moving any closer.

  “Enough, Charlie,” Caleb warned.

  Two others, about fifteen, carried a wild boar in from a side tunnel. They set their quarry on the ground, releasing a gush of clotted blood from the animal’s insides.

  “Does Leif know about this?” one asked. He was tall and thin, a cracked pair of glasses sitting askew on his nose.

  “He will soon enough,” Caleb replied.