That was all I had time to take in before I was at the panel, my fingers closing in around its edges as I prepared to rip it off the wall entirely. Then Ellinan found the toggle and the screen went mercifully dark and quiet, and I brushed him aside, ripping the power cord from its socket on the wall to prevent it being activated again.
“Can they find us through that?” Arsha said.
It was late, the children safely in their beds. We hadn’t spoken about the incident until now, not wanting to worry them, but it had been playing on my mind the whole time. I could see the concern in my mind mirrored in her eyes.
“I don’t know. They might.” I muttered a curse under my breath. “This is exactly why the Grid is such a danger to us. We won’t ever be safe while it’s active, even in short bursts. They’ll use it to track us down. There’s nowhere to hide.”
“What do you think it was?”
“It could only be some kind of Grid scanner. While that spire is up, it’s going to be looking for any Grid-capable devices within its reach to connect with. If the Marauders tap into the spire, they can scan for nodes coming online to see if they’re of value. That’s the only way I could imagine they connected to the panel so quickly.”
“And so the question is: was that contact enough to discover our location?”
I chewed my lip as I considered. “Doubtful. It’s a two-way street. If we only saw some vague static on this end, that’s probably all they saw on theirs. Another ten seconds for that connection to stabilise and it might have been a different story.”
“I’m sorry, Brant.” She snatched angrily at a loose thread of cotton on her pants. “I should have been watching the children.”
“No, this one is my fault. I should have disconnected that panel long ago. I just didn’t consider the ramifications.”
“Either way, the net is closing in.”
“Yes. The net is closing in.”
“So do we get out of here tonight? Or wait till tomorrow?”
I stared out the window toward the west, where I’d hoped to go looking for a better place to hide the children. Maybe it would be for the best to get them further away from here, as far away from the plantations as we could safely manage.
“Let’s get packing tonight,” I suggested. “If we hear them coming, we can make a run for it, but I’d rather not be trying to move them around in the darkness if I can help it. Let’s gather up the essentials so we’ll be ready to go. I’ll take Ell out for one more look around, and if we don’t find anything better, we’ll relocate to one of the places we found today.”
“Okay. I’m becoming more nervous here by the second, but I can live with that.”
I tilted my head back against the wall in consternation. “Such a goddamn shame to be leaving here. This was really beginning to feel like home.”
“We’ll be back,” Arsha reassured me. “Once the dust clears, we’ll come home.”
24
Ellinan finally got his chance to see the sweeping curves of the West Street Bridge up close, and he stared in appreciation as we walked beneath the exaggerated and artistic spiral of metal that stretched high above. He was so taken with it that he failed to keep his eyes on what was before him, bumping repeatedly into the rusted husks of cars, and I was forced to grab him by the chin and yank his attention to what was in front of us.
“Keep an eye out,” I said. “You never know where the holes and gaps are hiding in this damn bridge. You could fall straight through.”
He made a vague attempt at paying more attention, not nearly enough for my liking, so in the end I kept close and pulled him out of the path of obstacles where required.
On the other side of the river a large swathe of land had been transformed into blackened mounds of earth and ash, with the ramparts of old structures poking up sporadically like the ribs of gigantic beasts that had perished in the fire. The blaze from that night several years previous had certainly made its mark. A miasma had risen in place of the destroyed buildings, an invisible wall that reeked of sulphur and charcoal and burnt things of all descriptions.
Even now I could see, in the distance, the smoke of another fire further to the west. At the sight of it, Ellinan seemed suddenly reluctant to explore further.
“Doesn’t seem like a great place to live,” he remarked. “Or to explore.”
“Not here.” I pointed. “A kilometre or two that way we should find something more suitable.”
I led him past the fire zone, careful not to step in anything that might leave footprints should the Marauders come looking this way. After a couple of blocks the damage lessened, and then we were among buildings that fire had never touched. We began to duck in and out of structures we passed, and over the course of a couple of hours we found some good candidates for places to hide the children: one was an old garage with a dry, relatively clean workspace underneath, and the other a little garden supply outlet that sat atop a cluttered cellar. Both would take some preparation work, but not enough to dissuade me from considering them as options.
I felt encouraged by those discoveries. Earlier in the morning, I had wondered why I’d even made the suggestion to explore this side of town. There was a part of me that seemed to think that this was just some sort of cathartic ritual, that I was somehow expunging the demons of the past by returning to the place where I’d faced such hardships in the past. That I was simply proving to myself that I wasn’t afraid to come here.
Maybe that was part of it, but it wasn’t the whole reason. This wasn’t the time to be challenging myself or testing my nerve. There was a job to do, and a short timeframe in which to do it.
In any case, my intuition had proven to be correct. The locations we’d found here were superior to anything we’d found closer to home, and for that reason alone the trip had been worthwhile.
“I think that’s enough for today, Ell,” I said. “We’ve done what we came to do. Let’s head home.”
Rather than doubling back to the West Street Bridge and the charred ruins again, I took him along to the north so that we could cross the river at Cook Bridge. One dose of those ashen mounds had been enough for today. The combination of the dark skies above, the acres of black earth, the stink in the air and the fires in the distance had made that area seem a little too much like hell on earth. If only the nearby river had flowed with hot lava, the image would have been complete.
A change of scenery was in order.
The street broadened as we began north, and we entered an area where the architectural style was older, some of the buildings even utilising concrete masonry that must have been a couple of hundred years old. There was a character about these buildings that newer construction failed to replicate – a certain austere charm that had given way to fancy curves and more outlandish trends. There was appeal in the simple elegance of old that could not be replicated by the flashy swagger of the new.
Perhaps it was just the romanticism coming out in me. I’d always been attracted to classic elegance more than the myriad fads that had suddenly come into vogue and left just as quickly.
One such structure that we passed, streaked with grimy water marks down its facade, held that olden-day charm despite its dishevelled appearance. It was taller than most of the buildings on the street and featured an arched entrance with a wrought iron gate hanging ajar. Just outside the arch, something caught my eye and I stopped.
Ellinan saw it too and pointed excitedly. “Look, a flower!”
He ran over and knelt beside it, careful not to damage it. It appeared to be a violet carnation, poking up through a damp patch of soil beside the road.
“Beautiful, huh?” I said. “The flowers are starting to come back around the city.” I wondered idly if the bees would travel this far to pollinate the flowers. It must have been a good five to ten kilometres from home, as the crow flies.
“Mish would love this,” Ellinan said.
“Yeah, but you better leave it there. We don’t take what we don’t need, r
ight?”
He pointed through the archway. “I can see a couple more through there. Maybe I can take one of those.”
With that, he bounded up and pushed the gate aside. It squealed in protest, echoing along the empty street enough to make me wince, but Ellinan paid it no mind, trotting through into the courtyard with glee.
“Okay, just take one, then,” I said helplessly. Even though at times he struggled with the problems of an adult, there were moments where I was reminded that he still had the impetuousness of a child.
I looked back along the street. A motley tapestry of grey, it wound its way north-east and out of sight a couple of hundred metres ahead. There was a tall brick warehouse further along, its upper floor ravaged and crumbling, undoubtedly the target of a bomb strike during the Summer. What had they been storing there, I wondered? Most likely nothing of any importance. At its peak, the conflict had devolved into a manic and chaotic free-for-all, where both sides had simply begun to fling their entire arsenals at each other, no longer looking for strategic targets, but just seeking to destroy as much as they possibly could. Cities had been filled with random and unpredictable explosions, and nowhere had been safe.
I looked back along the thoroughfare. Those memories began to tug at other recollections of the past. This area was not far from where the Displacer lab had been located, I realised.
Not the Displacer lab. There was never such a thing as a Displacer. It wasn’t real.
Maybe being back in this part of the city was having an effect on me, after all. I hadn’t been this preoccupied by the events of the past in a long time. I thought I’d put them all behind me now, put them to bed, and I’d been content to move on with my life in a more positive direction. And yet today those echoes of the past had returned, rearing their ugly heads and nibbling away at my resolve in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
I was suddenly annoyed, agitated. I’d had enough and wanted to leave.
“Ell, let’s get out of here,” I called.
In moments Ellinan came skidding past the gate, his eyes wide, looking as though he was about to burst apart with excitement.
“Brant, you’ve got to see this.” Without waiting, he turned and began to run through the archway again. Then he glanced over his shoulder, adding, “It’s a miracle!”
I hastened after him, keen to see what had gotten him all worked up. Surely a patch of carnations could not be the source of such elation.
Then I saw.
Inside the courtyard, four walls rose steeply around us to the height of several stories, creating a secluded enclosure about twenty metres deep and ten metres wide. Like the exterior, the masonry here was streaked and mottled, and the tiled roof edges above were cracked and broken. Six narrow windows were set into the walls at irregular intervals, opaque and grimy, reticent to reveal what lay beyond.
It was the view at ground level that was most intriguing, however. The plot of land inside the courtyard was overrun with weeds, thick and clumpy, a veritable forest of spiny greenery. There was not a bare patch of earth to be seen in the entire courtyard, and once through the archway the smell of it was like a rainforest. I found it just as confronting, in its own way, as the odour of the burnt buildings had been earlier.
Ellinan was keen to explore, stepping out and pushing through the weeds. I stood back and waited. My first thought was to wonder at the reason for such abundance. Why was this little oasis here? Had the design of the exterior buildings created a channel in which water could pool? Was the courtyard sheltered from the outside world by these high walls, creating a microcosm in which the plants could take hold? Or was the soil here just more fertile for some reason?
Ellinan rummaged about in the thick of it, sweeping his hands back and forth excitedly, folding back leaves and pushing stalks aside.
“Do you see it?” he exclaimed.
“What are you…?” I stopped, my eye finally catching the source of his excitement. There weren’t just weeds in here – there were any number of species. As I joined him, bending my back and running my hands through the wall of greenery, I found potatoes, the prickly vines of pumpkins, and tomatoes all in quick succession. Deeper into the courtyard I could also see the heads of sunflowers poking above stalks of grass.
What the hell is this?
“The children can eat these, right?” Ellinan said, holding up a small greeny-red tomato. “We’ve found food for them!”
“Yeah, but…” I straightened, confused. How had this thriving vegetable patch sprung into existence? It couldn’t have occurred naturally, could it? It didn’t make sense.
Ellinan spotted something else and trampled forward eagerly. “Look! Berries!”
“Just watch your step,” I said. “You don’t know what you’re stepping on.”
“Let’s pick some of this stuff and take it home.”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. I felt dazed, sure that I should be connecting the dots, figuring out exactly what was going on here, but I felt behind the game. Torpid. I was floundering.
Swinging the backpack from my shoulder onto the ground, I pulled the shotgun out and opened the zipper wide as Ellinan came toward me with a fistful of tomatoes, grinning happily.
“I can’t wait to tell them about this,” he said.
I glanced around the courtyard again and for the first time saw an opening set into the wall on my left. It was a simple wooden-framed doorway with peeling white paint, and the grass and weeds had grown right up to it. I couldn’t make out any other details from this angle.
High-stepping my way through the growth, I rounded on the doorway from a vector that would allow me to see inside while still keeping a safe distance. I had no reason to feel concerned, since there had been no noises or any sign of occupants. There was no feeling of being watched as I had experienced all those times before killing that thing in the city.
But at some intuitive level, I was beginning to feel uneasy. This wasn’t right. There was something off about this whole situation.
The door was open, and inside I could see a bare concrete floor strewn with dirt. Almost subconsciously, I had moved the shotgun into a position in my hands where I could quickly bring it up and swing it into action.
“Ellinan,” I said in a hushed tone, not taking my eyes from the doorway. “Stop.”
“Huh?” he called back, still rummaging about, oblivious to what was going on.
“Stop.”
Finally he twigged to my demeanour and came to a sudden halt.
“What is it?” he whispered fearfully.
I didn’t respond, my eyes focussed solely on the darkened doorway. Peripherally, I was aware that Ellinan was now standing stock still, rigid as stone as he watched me creeping through the tangle of vegetation. I drew the shotgun to the ready position, my finger slipping to the trigger, and a deathly silence descended upon the courtyard.
I kept moving laterally, trying to get a view of what lay inside the room before I got near. Possibilities ran through my head, but none of them made any sense. The only thing I could grasp with any certainty was the gut feeling I’d come to rely on out in the wasteland, a feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me to watch my step, to prepare to run. Or to fight. It was an instinct that had saved my skin more times than I could count. It set my nerves on edge, sent the synthetic equivalent of adrenalin coursing through my body.
“What’s happening?” Ellinan said hoarsely.
I held up a hand, indicating silence. It was still too dark to see inside the room. I continued on, placing one foot very carefully after the other, making as little noise as possible – not that it would do much good now. If someone had been inside, they’d surely have heard us talking and moving around earlier.
They could be waiting there right now, hunched beside the door with a gun or an axe or a knife, terrified of the intruders who had appeared in their midst, or conversely exhilarated at the thought of striking down unsuspecting prey.
Maybe the prudent opti
on would be just to leave.
No, I thought immediately. I have to find out what’s going on here. I have to know.
My fingers tightened on the shotgun, held it steady at a forty-five degree angle as I edged closer. I was almost at the door. Still no noise, no sign of movement.
I crossed the last two steps quickly, stepping across the threshold and bringing the shotgun up, first to the right, then sweeping across to the left, my eyes scanning for movement. Inside, the room appeared to be a simple living area containing a wooden bench, a rusted chair, a steel brazier with blackened charcoal beneath, and a simple bed along one wall. A wooden door, currently closed, led further into the dwelling.
“Brant? What is it?”
There was no sign of anyone inside, so I stepped back out so I could look at him. I lowered the shotgun.
“I think someone is living here.”
25
I made a cautious reconnaissance of the rest of the house, searching every corner and behind every piece of furniture, but there were no occupants to be found in any of the adjoining rooms. There were signs that they had been here, though: clothes had been stacked in a bedroom, cooking utensils were spread across the counter in the kitchen, and there were towels slung across the bathtub.
So the question remained: when had they last been here? Had they been gone for years, or had we only just missed them?
“We should leave,” I said to Ellinan, who had appeared at the doorway. “It may not be safe.”
“What about the food?”
“Take what we have in the backpack, and that will do.”
“Why?” he complained. “There’s no one here.”
“Not right now, but that could change quickly. We don’t know anything about what’s going on here. Most likely, whoever created this garden won’t take kindly to us stealing from it.”
The Seeds of New Earth Page 21