Wasteland w-1
Page 25
“Tell us what this means,” she said. “I know that you’ll know.”
Joseph opened the book, marveling at the information and illustrations inside. And after looking them over, he did know.
Stumbling a bit, he explained that the maps were not just of roads above ground, but of underground waterbeds and formations, as well. He explained some of the words that they couldn’t decipher. Finally, he flipped through the book to show them the most important map of all.
“Saratoga Springs,” he said, pointing. “It must be where we are. It was a town built on a mineral spring, a long time ago. Look—here’s where my home might have been.”
Esther and Caleb shared a puzzled glance. “But how come it’s called Prin?” he asked.
Joseph paused, then brightened, pointing at the letters. “There was a town sign, with the whole name. But ‘Prin’ is all that’s left. See?” He covered the other letters to demonstrate.
Saratoga Springs. Prin.
Joseph glanced at Esther. He could tell she was about to ask why he had never figured this out before, but then she stopped. She knew she wouldn’t have listened, just months ago.
She was so much younger then.
They all were.
Beneath its bleached surface, the soil was surprisingly dark and rich.
When the hole was deep enough, Caleb hoisted himself out. Knocking the clay off his shovel, he joined Skar and Joseph. The variant girl was tending Kai, holding him on her hip and bouncing him up and down to keep him quiet. Having become more comfortable around babies, Joseph made funny faces in order to amuse him. But then he remembered that this was a solemn occasion and he stopped.
Off to the side, Esther stood in silence with the body of her sister held in her arms.
Wrapped in a white sheet, Sarah was curled on her side like a sleeping cat. She was oddly heavy for one so frail, her limbs stiff and unyielding. It was how Esther had found her that morning. In death, the terrible fever had broken for good; the unexpected iciness of her skin was a shock. With the lines in her face relaxed, Sarah had seemed at peace and almost pretty again, as if the illness had never happened.
And it was a good death, if such things existed.
Sarah had died at home; against the decree of the town, Esther refused to allow her to be Shunned. Over the weeks, she kept her in the shattered remains of their home and tended to her, feeding and changing her like a baby even as the lesions spread and the dementia grew.
For most of the time, Sarah slept. This was a blessing; the pain and the fever were almost too much for anyone to bear.
But early in the mornings, before the heat of her body would spike and she would lose sense of where she was, Sarah would have a few moments of lucidity. Esther would sit next to her, feeding her water from a spoon, and the sisters would talk. Without acknowledging it, both girls understood that an entire lifetime of unspoken thoughts, confidences, and memories had to be shared in a few precious weeks. From outside the bedroom door, Caleb could hear only a few whispered words, even an occasional peal of laughter.
And now that Esther had finally grown to know her sister, it was time for her to take her leave.
She handed the body to Caleb; then she jumped down into the freshly dug grave. Reaching up her arms, she took Sarah. She held her sister for a moment. It was maybe the third or fourth time she had done so in her life; it would be the last, as well. Then she placed the curled-up body on its side, on the exposed red clay.
“Good-bye,” she said softly.
Filling the grave did not take long; she, Skar, Caleb, and Joseph took turns with the two shovels they had brought. The one not digging took care of Kai; Joseph was eager for his turn.
Bright-eyed, the child seemed enchanted with everything he saw. He marveled at the brown and brittle leaves that littered the dark soil. He put dead grass and bits of twig in his mouth and spat them out, laughing and babbling.
Now he heard a sound and looked overhead so abruptly, he fell backward and sat down. Joseph assumed he was frightened and wondered if one of them should pick him up and tend to him, comfort his fears.
But Kai didn’t mind. Above him, he saw birds flying in a V, their honking cries echoing, as they journeyed to a better place.
And he clapped his hands with pure delight.
EPILOGUE
WITH LEVI GONE, EVERYTHING HAD CHANGED. HIS OLD LAWS NO LONGER applied: Overnight, the jobs were meaningless, Esther’s presence in town was unquestioned, and drinkable water was in endless supply. With the crisis over, people had turned their attentions to rebuilding the town and pooling the remaining resources so everyone would be fed.
After helping defeat Levi, the variants had mostly retreated to their camp. Still, it was apparent they were aware of the town’s need. Gifts appeared on the main street, early in the morning before anyone was awake: two full sacks of cornmeal and one of rice, remains of Levi’s payments. A newly slaughtered deer. Three fat partridges. There was a spirit of holiday in the air, so much so that it was hard not to feel optimistic.
Yet Esther for one was uncertain. It was not just the fact that the people of Prin were reduced to living in shanties and lean-tos or amid the rubble of what had been their homes. The wreckage of the Source still stank of fire and smoke and burning plastic. Despite Prin’s current bounty, its supplies of food would soon be exhausted.
Esther did not doubt the strength or the will of the people. More important, she saw hope in Caleb’s righteousness and in the wisdom the two of them had gained at such a painful price. She saw hope in their love, a bond that seemed to grow stronger with each day. And she saw it in the eyes of the child, Kai.
There was certainly a future for them; that much she knew. Only she was not so certain it would be in Prin.
For now, however, Esther put her doubts aside. Tonight the entire town was celebrating, and although the afternoon sun was already low in the sky she still had to fetch Joseph.
With his home destroyed, her old friend was living with her and Caleb. Yet he seemed frightened to even venture outdoors and had to be escorted everywhere, coaxed like a small child.
Upstairs, Joseph was waiting for her with a tense expression.
“Are you ready?” she asked. “Caleb and Kai are already there, with everyone else.”
Joseph nodded. Esther noticed that he had smoothed down his hair and put on a relatively clean T-shirt.
“Come,” she said, patiently holding out her hand. But still he hesitated.
“You know,” he said suddenly, “it actually is a holiday today.”
Off her puzzled look, he continued in a rush. “According to my old calendars, today is a day when people used to celebrate abundance, while preparing for the hard months ahead. It is a day they called ‘Thanksgiving.’”
Esther paused.
“Thanksgiving,” she repeated, as if to herself. Her expression was thoughtful.
“And it is also,” Joseph added, blushing, “the first party I have ever attended. And as the new town elder, too.”
“Imagine that,” Esther said. Then she met his eyes and smiled.
Wordlessly, the two headed downstairs and onto the street. The sun had set and for a moment, Joseph held back, frightened by the blackness that seemed to engulf them. Yet Esther saw that there was already a sliver of moon overhead, casting a pale yet steady light. And if you lifted your head and sniffed, you could make out the faint but inviting smell of roasting venison and the far-off, happy sounds of festivities.
Esther confidently led the way through the darkness.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
SUSAN KIM & LAURENCE KLAVAN cowrote the graphic novels CITY OF SPIES and BRAIN CAMP.
Susan is also a five-time Emmy nominee for her work in children’s television and a Writers Guild Award winner for best documentary. She wrote the stage adaptation of Amy Tan’s THE JOY LUCK CLUB, teaches writing at Goddard College, and is a blogger for the Huffington Post. When she was growing up, there was a chain-link
fence behind her apartment that led to a small woods. After dinner, all the kids would sneak through to play in a world where no adults intruded. The memory of that has always stayed with her.
Laurence’s previous novels include THE CUTTING ROOM and THE SHOOTING SCRIPT; he won an Edgar Award for the novel MRS. WHITE, and his short-story collection is forthcoming. He received two Drama Desk nominations for the book and lyrics to Bed and Sofa, a musical produced by New York’s Vineyard Theatre. As kids, he and his three brothers used to make epic movies in their backyard, reenacting the Alamo, the signing of the Magna Carta… and the end of the world. This last one involved a lot of fighting over food and property, which was, of course, what they did every day in real life.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
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COPYRIGHT
Cover art © 2013 by Colin Anderson
Cover type © 2013 by Alex Beltechi
Cover design by Tom Forget
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
WASTELAND. Copyright © 2013 by Susan Kim and Laurence Klavan.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kim, Susan.
Wasteland / by Susan Kim and Laurence Klavan. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: In a postapocalyptic world where everyone dies at age nineteen and rainwater contains a killer virus, loners Esther and Caleb band together with a group of mutant, hermaphroditic outsiders to fight a corrupt ruler and save the town of Prin.
ISBN 978-0-06-211851-6 (hardcover bdg.)
EPub Edition January
ISBN 9780062118530
[1. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 2. Virus diseases—Fiction. 3. Mutation (Biology)—Fiction. 4. Science Fiction.] I. Klavan, Laurence. II. Title.
PZ7.K55992Was 2013
2012026744
[Fic]—dc23
13 14 15 16 17 LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
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