Zoo

by Tara Elizabeth

  So anyway, the cowboy fires his six-shooter at us, and I instinctively raise my gun to fire back at him, but I stop short. His bullets fall to the ground instead of hitting us. I hurriedly say to Kale, “Oh my goodness! Kale, we can’t shoot these people. They’re trying to get out, just like us. They think we’re Keepers.”

  “You’re right” He looks down at his gun and shoves it into a pocket—much like a kangaroo pouch—on the belly of the suit. This frees up his hands, so I do the same. Then we run straight for the steep climb up and out of the valley, for freedom, and our new-old lives.

  ***

  It’s a strange sensation being shot at and having each and every bullet bounce off you like it can’t get away fast enough. In the short amount of time it’s taken us to get from Kansas’ house to halfway up the cliff, we’ve become arrogant. It’s like back in my old life, when I never even thought about the possibility that my actions could get me killed. Stupid phone showed me.

  So while the suits protect against direct hits, they don’t protect against the one remaining Nazi tank that just fired a missile into the ground between us.

  “Landslide!” someone calls from below us.

  Duh, I think as a rock explodes around me.

  I’m not really sure how to describe what is happening. The ground under me gives out. I grab onto the closest thing next to me, which is a huge boulder that I’m currently riding down the side of the cliff. It’s flipping me over and over, and every time I hit the ground with it on top of me, I’m rocketed back into the air as my suit deflects the impact. I see sky. No, ground. No, sky again.

  Now I only see black, and I feel an enormous amount of pressure, pushing me further into the earth. I can hear Kale’s muffled voice yelling my name over and over. “Emma! Emma!” he calls out to the darkness that is now me.

  I think my chest is collapsing. My ribs aren’t strong enough to hold the weight of the debris that’s resting on top of me. Thankfully, the head covering is protecting my face, but I can’t see a thing. I’m trapped! I can’t move my hands or my legs. My head won’t turn. My feet can’t wiggle. No. No. No!

  Breathe. In and out. In and out. I try to coach myself into not losing my mind before Kale can reach me. In and out. Deep breaths.

  Slowly, the rubble starts to lift away. My face is set free first. Then I see him, peering down at me. And I know he’s absolutely freaking out. “Emma? Are you okay?” he asks through his respirator.

  I manage to croak a “yes.”

  He continues lifting rocks off of my legs and then my arms. Finally, he’s able to push a boulder the size of a German Shepherd off of my chest; only I still feel it after it’s gone. It hurts. Bad.

  I scream out as Kale pulls me to my feet. I clutch my side, gasping for air.

  “Let me see.” The suits must sense each other, because Kale isn’t shocked when he touches me. He moves his hand across my ribcage, pressing down lightly as he goes along.

  “Stop!” I scream, when he’s reached the tender spot.

  “You must have bruised or cracked a rib, maybe two . . . Watch out!” He pulls me down and to the side, as another missile slams into the cliffside. It sends another landslide tumbling down. It’s like waves in the ocean, one after another, crashing and spraying.

  We’re hidden behind a large boulder now, crouched on the ground, and I have tears spilling down my cheeks. They’re starting to steam up my mask. “It hurts to breathe. How am I going to make it up there? I can’t climb that now.”

  “We don’t have to. We can go back to the house. We can wait this thing out with the others.”

  “No. We can’t. What about Kai? What about our future?”

  “We can have a future together here, Emma. Look at you. Look at this place. You’re injured, and we have a chance to be safe if we go back to that house.” Kale looks so genuinely worried for my wellbeing. I love him even more for that.

  “No. We’re going back to our real homes and our real families.” I shift myself onto my knees and peek around the boulder, looking for a way up—50-feet up.

  All around us, people are climbing to their freedom, Keepers are rounding stragglers up, and people that want to stay are fighting people that are trying to escape. The peak of the crack in the dome is directly overhead. Fresh sea air is spilling inside. I’m only just noticing it. There is also smoke being sucked back out, as something huge burns on the other side of the mountain range. The air-trains have stopped, but there are still Keepers swooping around on those flying motorcycle things.

  That’s what we need…

  ***

  Kale and I take turns firing at the men and women riding the air-cycles. We’re both terrible shots, and some of the machines have working force fields. Eventually, we hit a Keeper in the leg, and his flying machine slowly starts to descend. We take off after it, leaving our hiding spot behind. Well, I’m running to the best of my ability, while clutching my side.

  The air-cycle lands only 20 feet from us. This seems too easy. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop or the other rib to crack, in my case.

  The injured Keeper jumps off the machine and hops over to a rock where he proceeds to inspect his bloodied leg. He notices us slowly approaching, but doesn’t scare since we are Keepers like him. “Damn suits,” he complains. “If they were working right, I wouldn’t have gotten shot. Either one of you have a Healer?”

  I shake my head.

  “Humph. Figures,” he pouts.

  We edge our way past him and over to his air-cycle, which is still floating inches off the ground. Kale slides his gun back into the kangaroo pouch and then hops on the flying machine. I slide on behind him, while holding my side and my gun. I’m also trying not to scream.

  It’s a good thing Kale is in the driver’s seat, because I would have had no idea how to fly this thing. It’s obvious that Kale doesn’t either. The air-cycle jumps, then lunges forward and back. It jerks us this way and that as we rise up high above the ground. I hold on tight to Kale’s waist, while he tries to figure out what he’s doing.

  The injured Keeper is yelling, “Hey! Stop that! Get off my Hopper, you traitors!” He reached into his pocket and pulls something out. It’s one of those weird, futuristic guns. He raises it high, aiming straight for us. Not knowing if his futuristic weapon can penetrate our suits, I aim my regular old handgun back at him. Before either of us pulls the trigger, he slumps to the ground. Another red stain forms on his bright, white suit.

  I’m relieved he didn’t shoot us and also that it wasn’t me that shot him. I tuck the gun safely away in my pouch.

  “I think I figured it out!” Kale calls back to me. The Hopper springs forward and zooms over the valley floor. Kale directs it to rise higher and higher until we reach the top of the plateau.

  “There it is!” I point to the well that’s in the center of the Safe Zone. It’s so close. We’re so close.

  Now we need to land.

  Through another series of lurches and ups and downs, Kale finally gets the air-cycle to stop about five feet above the ground. Kale easily jumps to the grassy earth, but he’ll have to help me down. With my injury, I won’t be able to take the impact.

  All around us, people are running away. They dart over to the Safe Zone, because they still believe it protects them. Maybe it does. But the sight of their terror, when they see us masquerading as Keepers, is devastating.

  “Don’t worry about them.” Kale brings me back to our own problems. “Sit on the foot rest there.” He reaches up with his strong arms, wrapping one around my uninjured side and the other under a leg. He carefully delivers me to a stable surface.

  We take each other’s hand, as we always do of late, and walk toward the well and our past.

  And future.

  CROWD SURFING

  As we approach the edge of the Safe Zone, the people within the circle of stones huddle together. They all push in closer to the well, blocking us from it. Someone to the left of us within the circle starts t
o cry. Between sobs, I can hear a woman’s frightened voice say, “My fifteen minutes are up. Please don’t hurt me. Please.” She hesitantly steps outside of the circle. Then turns and runs as fast as her fishnet stocking covered legs will take her. She runs for the pine forest, the one we first passed through when we arrived. But now it’s also the way out for everyone except us.

  “We’re not Keepers!” I call out to the scared crowd and then gasp in pain. None of the worried people appear to believe us. They are just as wary as when they first spotted us.

  “We’re not Keepers!” Kale calls out this time.

  I step inside the circle of stones and then start to remove the white Keeper’s suit. First, I remove the head covering, and then I slowly pull off the rest, leaving it all off to the side (gun included). My book, Emma, is still resting against my backside, and once again, I get to stand around in my cotton bloomers and chemise.

  Kale follows my lead and removes his white suit as well. He takes the gun from the kangaroo pouch and shoves it into his waistband. He seems hesitant to leave the safety of the suits behind, but we don’t need them anymore. We’ve nearly reached our destination.

  “Where are your silver star tattoos?” Someone calls out from within the crowd. And the crowd joins in, “Yeah! Where are your tattoos?”

  “We don’t have tattoos. We’re like you. Prisoners,” Kale responds.

  Someone cries, “They don’t have tattoos!” Followed by others. “No tattoos! Get them!” And then someone else yells, “No, I’ve seen them before!”

  They start to push and shove each other. Everyone is panicked. Except us. And although we’re in the middle of a stampede and there’s still a painful pressure in my chest that makes it hurt to breathe, I feel as though a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It’s as if I’m lighter than air, and I might float right up out of the crack in the dome. I’m so relieved. We’re only minutes from home. Home. My parents. My friends. My life. Our life.

  We shove our way into the crowd. They envelop us as we press forward, but before we reach the well, the people surrounding us start to get uneasy about something else. They’re starting to push and pull each other more violently. They’re yelling and screaming in dozens of languages. I scream out as someone hits my side, trying to get past me. I nearly fall over from the pain.

  My attention shifts off of my ribs as a gun fires close by. Overhead, a Keeper on a Hopper zooms around, dropping something into the large group. And then, all hell breaks loose. We have to climb over people that are trying to climb over us. Everyone is fighting to go somewhere, but no one knows where they’re headed—or so it seems.

  Some kind of smoke is billowing up into the air. I don’t know what it is, but as a precaution I pull my shirt up over my nose and mouth. I hold my breath as much as possible. It’s making it hard for everyone to see. Another person slams into my hurt side, and I scream out in pain again. Unfortunately, it draws the attention of the shooter. He fires in our direction. A man dressed like a sea captain takes the hit. He drops to the ground with his hand wrapped around his shoulder.

  I don’t have time to react with emotion. I only have time to turn around and push Kale forward toward the well. “Go! Go! Go!” I urge him.

  We reach the three-foot tall stonewall that surrounds the well. Moss and mold cover the old stones that crumble beneath my fingers as I dig in. I hold on tight to them as if they’ll protect me. We crawl around to the other side, away from the shooting. By now, most everyone has scattered to the forest.

  But not us. We still have to get down the well.

  THE WELL

  The dirty cotton shirt covering Kale’s mouth and nose muffles his voice as he explains his plan. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll lower you down first. When you get to the bottom, tug the rope. I’ll tie it off up here and slide down,” he says as he pulls the water bucket out of the well.

  “But what about the Keepers?” I ask him, my voice smothered as well.

  “I think they’re preoccupied with all the runners. No one is dumb enough to actually hang around.” Kale hurriedly unties the water bucket from the rope. Then he loops it around my back and ties it under my arms. I can already tell this is not going to feel very good. “Now crawl in and be careful. I’ll lower you down.” He grips the rope tight with both hands.

  I peek over the top of the well. There are four dead bodies littered across the beautiful, green grass, there are five others that have been captured by two Keepers, and there’s one more Keeper that is jetting off into the pine forest on a Hopper. No one is looking our way.

  I kiss Kale before I ease my left leg over the side of the wall. I look at him one more time and then swing my right leg over. “Don’t drop me. And don’t leave me down there alone.” I tell him this because I want him with me—always—not because I’m scared.

  “I’ll be right behind you, Princess,” he reassures me and then kisses my lips with the softest touch. It’s funny that I love for him to call me that, since I hated it when James called me “baby.” But I know Kale is using it as a term of endearment. He’s not being a male chauvinist pig. And what girl doesn’t want to be a princess?

  My stomach drops and my ribs ache as Kale lowers me into the well. I want to scream again, but I can’t. Instead, I bite my lower lip to keep from crying. Above me, the smoke has cleared. It’s getting darker the lower I get. I look down, but don’t see water yet.

  The rope goes slack and I drop several feet. Then, it suddenly stops, and I’m once again dangling over nothing. I have to let out a small cry, as the rope digs into my armpits, burning it’s way deeper into my flesh. On a positive note, the searing pain of the rope temporarily relieves the pain of my hurt ribs and healing butt.

  “Kale! Are you okay?” I yell up the dark shaft.

  His head peeks over the side. He waves an arm, letting me know that he’s still safe from the Keepers. Then he disappears.

  I continue to drop deeper into the well, inch by painful inch, until my feet finally hit water. I let him lower me until the well water is up to my waist, and I cringe as I realize that my book is getting soaked. Then, I wiggle out of the rope’s hold and give it three big yanks.

  After a few seconds, a shadow covers the opening way above me. It blocks out the tiny bit of light that I have down here. Kale slides down the long rope, faster than I expected. But as he gets closer, I can see that he’s removed his shirt and wrapped it around the harsh rope to protect his hands. He almost makes it all the way down. Someone from above cuts the rope and sends Kale plummeting down the shaft straight for me. Did I mention that this well only has a four-foot diameter at most? I pull the water with my flailing hands and arms, forcing myself right up next to the wall. Treading water is not easy when you’re in panic mode and potentially have a cracked rib or two. My face bobs above and below the surface of the well water. I fear I’m on the verge of drowning.

  Kale hits the water, sending a spray over my head and soaking the dry stones on the wall that surrounds us. My hands slip as I try to grab at their slick surfaces. Kale resurfaces the second I turn around to look for him. He’s terror-stricken. He bursts, “Get under now! They have guns!”

  “Who has guns?” I spit out a mouthful of water. “The Keepers?”

  Pop! Pop!

  Two shots ricochet off the walls that surround us. Oh no. We both take huge, deep breaths and go under.

  THE BUTTON

  Being under the surface of the dark well water, as guns fire from back up on the ground, is terrifying. I don’t know how far down the well goes, and I can’t see anything. I didn’t get a deep enough breath to keep me underwater for much longer.

  Kale finds my left hand as I use my right hand to search for the mysterious button. All I feel are stones—one after another. Stone. Stone. Stone. We go deeper. Stone. Stone.

  I need to breathe. I need air. My lungs are burning.

  Pop! Another gun shot from above.

  I keep searching.
Stone. Stone. Stone. Wait . . . This feels different. It’s a raised circle. I press it.

  Nothing happens at first. I clinch Kale’s hand and start to rise back up to the surface for air. A million questions and worries are flying through my head: how are we going to get out of here? I made Kale come down here with me and now look. We’re going to drown. But then, in a flash, we’re lying on a white floor in a white room surrounded by people in white. We must have passed through one of the Keepers’ portals, and now we’re right in the middle of a swarm of them. We both scramble to get closer to one another. Kale reaches for his gun. I can’t believe that it didn’t fall out in the well. He holds it out in front of him, ready to fire.

  The only move that anyone makes is Kai taking off his Keeper’s mask. I instantly jump up and rush into his arms, weeping with joy. “You made it,” Kai says enthusiastically.

  I should introduce him to Kale, who is still unsure of what’s happening here. I’m not really sure what’s happening here either, but I know I can trust Kai. That’s all that matters. “Kale, this is Kai.”

  It takes Kale a minute, but he eventually lowers his gun. He shoves it in the waistband of his pants instead of discarding it like I was so easily able to do. Finally, he walks over to us and looks into Kai’s eyes. “You have our eyes. Both of us are there. I can see it.” Kale looks over to me in blissful disbelief.

  Kai offers Kale his hand, but Kale doesn’t accept it. Instead, he gathers him up in a hug and says, “Thank you for your help. I’m honored to have met you.”