Gated

by Amy Christine Parker

  Pioneer and my parents are down the hall by the elevators. They motion for me. I glance over at the nurses’ station. There’s only one nurse there and her head is down, the pencil in her hand moving quickly over her paper. I don’t hesitate, I just walk past, head up, pace brisk but not at a run, not yet. Once I’m out of her sight line, I jog to where they are, trying desperately not to bounce off the right side wall and then the left. Why won’t this hallway stop rocking? I’m out of breath instantly. I’m still so, so dizzy. My mom wraps her arm around my shoulder and we walk past the elevators and toward the stairs.

  “Hurry now,” Pioneer urges in a whisper. He opens the door to the stairs and slams into the sheriff. Both men stumble into the stairwell. Cody is there, halfway down the stairs. He hurries up the last few steps and puts a hand on the sheriff’s back to steady him. He looks at me, his eyes full of questions and alarm.

  If Pioneer is panicked by any of this, he doesn’t show it. He pulls back and glares at the sheriff.

  “You all seem to be in something of a hurry,” Sheriff Crowley says.

  Pioneer shakes his head and attempts a smile. “Just anxious to get our Lyla home so she can rest. We’ve all been real worried about her.”

  “Sure, sure.” The sheriff looks from Pioneer to me. “How you doin’ this morning?”

  “Good,” I say. I try to keep my eyes on him and not Cody. My parents and Pioneer are watching.

  “Wait!” The nurse who was at the desk when we passed comes running down the hall. “You haven’t been discharged yet.”

  The sheriff’s left eyebrow shoots up. “Well now, you were in a hurry, weren’t you?”

  Pioneer glares at him but says nothing.

  “The doctor needs to check on you one last time before he signs your papers, and your parents need to go down to the billing office.”

  She leads us back down the hallway and we have no choice but to follow. My parents veer off at the elevators and make their way to the billing office, while Pioneer accompanies me back to my room. I’m pretty sure he won’t let me out of his sight until we’re gone. The sheriff and Cody are close on our heels.

  My stomach won’t stop trembling. Anger rolls off Pioneer in waves. There’s a confrontation brewing between the sheriff and Pioneer. I can feel it gathering like a storm cloud above us. The longer we’re all together, the bigger the cloud gets.

  “I’d like to speak to Lyla one last time while you’re all waiting to go,” Sheriff Crowley says as we walk.

  “Absolutely not.” Pioneer stops walking and stares at him. “She’s been through enough.”

  “I can see that. Seems like she’s had several accidents recently, not just the car.” He gestures toward my neck.

  Pioneer’s eyes flash. “Exactly what are you implying?”

  Sheriff Crowley looks him squarely in the eyes. “That living in Mandrodage Meadows might be a bit dangerous.”

  “Listen, I don’t know where this is coming from. I took you on a tour of our development myself. What exactly do you think is so dangerous? Clean living?” Pioneer says.

  The sheriff shakes his head. “Well then, if you don’t have anything to hide, maybe you’d like to answer a few of my questions yourself, Mr. Cross?”

  Mr. Cross. That’s his real name. Mr. Alan Cross. I remember it from last night.

  Pioneer looks dumbstruck for a second, but the sheriff just keeps staring at him, the challenge plain on his face.

  Pioneer looks over at me. If I go with him, I’ll get to hear his take on all that Cody and the sheriff have found out. “Lyla, go sit on that chair over there and wait for me.” Strange, I thought for sure that he’d make me stay by his side. “I’ll go, but your boy can’t wait with her,” Pioneer says to the sheriff. “And we’ll talk right over there.” He points to the other end of the nurses’ station, still in plain view of my chair.

  Cody’s dad gives him a look and Cody nods and walks toward the bank of elevators. But then as Pioneer and his dad turn around, he ducks down and hurries over to the low wall on this side of the nurses’ station and sits on the floor where they can’t see him but I can. I lean over and pretend to rub my temples. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Pioneer look over at me, but then the sheriff says something and Pioneer’s eyes snap over to him.

  “Are you okay?” Cody whispers, almost too low for me to hear.

  I nod into my hands.

  “Lyla, you don’t have to go back with him. My dad says he can keep you here if you say Pioneer hurt you. I mean, he did do that to your neck, didn’t he? I don’t think you should go home. Not right now.”

  I peer out at him through the curtain I’ve made with my hair so Pioneer can’t see my face very well. “Why not?”

  Cody looks uncomfortable. “I overheard my Dad talking about you guys in his office yesterday when I was working the phones at the station. He’s going out to Mandrodage Meadows again. Soon. And so is the rest of the force plus some people from the ATF.”

  “The who?”

  “The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. They think Pioneer’s purchased some illegal weapons and gun parts. Dad had a few tips called in a while back—that’s why we came out to visit you all last time, to do an initial scout-out of the place. But until yesterday he didn’t have anything more to go on. Then he got a tip from a guy one state over who had been arrested for selling stolen guns this past week. He wanted to try and get out of his charge by narcing on his customer list. You guys were mentioned. I took the call from the guy working that case when it came in and just sort of … forgot to hang up. Dad’s got more than enough now to search your place thoroughly.”

  I let his words sink in. Our worst fears are coming true. They’re going to invade Mandrodage Meadows. And I know that my family and friends won’t let them without a fight. We won’t have to wait for the end anymore. It’s already here. If these people have their way, they will force a fight that could quite possibly kill us all.

  Anger flares inside me. I’m angry at Pioneer for buying the guns and attracting more attention than any of the rest of us ever could. I’m angry at the sheriff for coming after us, and I’m even angry at Cody for making me doubt Pioneer and the Community, for trying to convince me to leave them. All three of them have taken away everything that’s ever made me feel safe. Now I feel like I don’t have solid ground to stand on anymore.

  “Lyla, do you understand what I’m saying?” Cody whispers.

  I look over at Pioneer and the sheriff. They’re in the midst of a very intense conversation. I can’t hear their words. I can’t even really process Cody’s. I don’t understand. All I know for sure is that I can’t stay here. My whole world is back at Mandrodage Meadows. I can’t betray it for a boy I barely know just because Pioneer said some things that weren’t exactly true. I have to go back and warn everyone about what’s coming. I have to tell them about what Pioneer’s done, about who he is, so that they can decide for themselves what to do next. I can’t choose to be safe while everyone else is in danger.

  “I have to go home,” I say.

  Crouching low, Cody scurries over to where I’m sitting. He grabs my hand. “No, you don’t. Lyla, please. This can’t end well. It won’t end well.”

  Before I have a chance to answer, Pioneer is suddenly next to us, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Cody.

  “I thought I told you to stay away from her,” he says in a low voice.

  “Let go of her,” Cody fires back, his eyes just as dangerous and unstable as Pioneer’s.

  “I’m okay, Cody. Please, just go, okay? I’m fine.” I look at Sheriff Crowley. “Really, everything is fine. You’ve got this all wrong. All we want is to be left alone. We’re not hurting any of you, so please, just let us go home.”

  Pioneer looks pleased by my speech. Cody and Sheriff Crowley don’t. I have to make them leave us alone—for all of our sakes. “Thank you both for your concern, but I don’t need it. I’m right where I want to be.” Maybe this is n
ot entirely true, maybe I’m right where I need to be, but I don’t clarify.

  I look at Cody. I try to put my goodbye in my face. I hope he sees it and recognizes it for what it is. He needs to stop trying to rescue me. I’m not even sure that I can be, not anymore.

  We’ve lived as no other people, lived and loved. We’ve had as much of this world as you’re going to get. Let’s just be done with it.

  —Jim Jones

  Pioneer drives us home. I lie across the backseat, my head in my mom’s lap. I’m dizzy and sick, but I’m not sure if it’s because of the concussion or my confrontations with Sheriff Crowley and Pioneer or the realization that I won’t ever see Cody again.

  We are driving uncharacteristically fast. Normally we obey the speed limit at all costs to avoid getting pulled over and attracting attention. But after the hospital and all that’s happened, Pioneer doesn’t care anymore. His hands grip the steering wheel. They’re white around the knuckles. He hasn’t spoken since we left Culver Creek. Dad’s tried to draw him out a few times, but now we’re all silent and it’s so uncomfortable that I can barely stand it.

  I need to tell them all about what Cody said. I need to warn them. But I want to tell my parents first, without Pioneer listening in. I’m hoping they’ll know what to do next. Still, carrying the information around is weighing on me. I’ll be glad when it’s not my responsibility anymore.

  When we finally pull up to Mandrodage Meadows, I practically leap from the car and then instantly regret it because my head aches in protest.

  Every person in the Community seems to be out in the streets, packing their golf carts with boxes full of stuff—blankets and clothes.

  “We’re moving all of our things into the shelter now,” Pioneer says as he shuts his car door and follows us into the street. “Tomorrow will be our final day above ground.”

  Did he just say ‘tomorrow’? I knew he would speed things up, but this is so much faster than I expected.

  I can tell by my mom’s expression that she wasn’t aware of this either. I start to walk away from the car. I’m anxious to get home. I want to tell her what I know.

  “Don’t forget your things, Little Owl,” Pioneer says, interrupting my thoughts. He’s holding up my backpack. I have to work not to look completely alarmed at how close he is to the contraband I’ve smuggled here. I’d let it completely slip my mind. I make myself smile at him and take the pack. “Thanks, I almost forgot.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s my job to remind you,” he says.

  I shoulder my pack. Pioneer is staring at me. Does he sense my doubts about the Silo and the end? Does he somehow suspect what happened between Cody and me? I try to walk away from him slowly, casually, but I can feel the stiffness of my gait betraying my inner panic, exposing me to him.

  “We need to get underground before Sheriff Crowley comes here and does any more investigating,” Pioneer tells us. He steps in front of me, blocking my way. “And when we are safely in the Silo tomorrow, you will tell me everything that went on at that hospital. Understand?”

  Mr. Whitcomb rushes up to us and whispers something in Pioneer’s ear. Then Pioneer strides off without another word. There will be an awful lot to do between now and tomorrow. He must be anxious to get a head start. He’s walking toward the stables. Indy. This is the longest I’ve gone without seeing him. I strain to get a look at the corral, to see if I can spot him. He’s normally out having his exercise about now. But the corral’s empty. With all that’s happening, I guess our normal routine is going to suffer. I’ll have to bring him an extra helping of carrots later to reassure him, just as soon as I’m done talking with my parents. I don’t want to think about having to say goodbye to him. Maybe after my talk with my parents, I won’t have to. I fidget as they gather their things. I’m ready to get home, to tell them everything Cody told me.

  “Lyla!” Suddenly Will runs up and scoops me into a gentle hug. “I was so worried.” He kisses me lightly on the mouth. I’m too startled to kiss back … and maybe just a little too guilty.

  “You’re okay?” He searches my face.

  “I’m fine,” I say for what feels like the hundredth time since the accident. Actually, the more people ask, the less fine I feel. And anyway, I can’t look at him directly.

  Will gives me a strange look and puts me down.

  “I’m just a little sick … and so tired,” I say.

  He smiles softly. “Sure. I get it. I’ll let you go get some rest. I guess come tomorrow you’ll have lots of time to tell me all about what happened.”

  He kisses my forehead. I don’t pull away, although I want to. I watch him turn and amble off in the general direction of his house. Then I turn and follow my parents home.

  Once we’re safely inside, I ask my parents if we can talk, and we all sit down at the kitchen table. After I spend a minute debating the best way to explain things to them, I just blurt it out. There is no good way.

  “That boy at the hospital, Cody, said that his dad is investigating us. They think we’ve got some kind of illegal weapons or something. They’ll be coming out here again tomorrow to search the place really well.”

  When I mention the weapons, my dad winces like maybe he knows about them and gets why we might be in trouble. My heart starts jack-rabbiting in my chest. I was hoping that maybe they’d laugh off what I said and then spend the next few minutes convincing me that I’m mistaken, but they don’t.

  I tell them about the sheriff’s questions about the accident. I have trouble meeting their eyes when I tell them that he thinks Pioneer’s been hurting me. My mom looks furious, but my dad does something that I don’t expect. He gets up from the table and walks over to the kitchen door’s frame and rests his head on it and closes his eyes. The look on his face makes me want to put my arms around him. He looks so sad. I leave out my meeting with Cody. I make it sound like the sheriff told me about the earthquakes and the hurricane and their separate occurrence dates. I don’t want them to suspect my feelings for Cody. And I don’t trust myself to talk about him without getting upset.

  “I’m sure Pioneer had good reason for telling us what he did and showing us the news clips all together,” Mom says. “He probably meant it as a reassurance. Sealing ourselves in the Silo is scary. For all of us. I think he just wanted us to feel as confident as possible about it.” Her smile barely falters. I’m beginning to think maybe she won’t ever question anything that Pioneer does. I wonder what it feels like to be that certain of him.

  “It was a kindness, really,” she adds.

  “If the sheriff and the ATF do come here, it’ll be a major problem,” Dad says. “They will try to force us to leave. This sort of thing’s happened before to people like us. It could be Waco all over again. It’s why we’ve tried so hard to stay under their radar.” He shakes his head. “I warned Pioneer about buying those guns the way he did. It was a big risk.” He gets up from the table and walks over to the back window. He stares out into the backyard.

  “But we’ll be underground now by the time they come,” Mom says. “They don’t know about the Silo, right?”

  She looks at me for confirmation and I try not to hesitate before I nod. I don’t want to admit that I told them much more than I was supposed to. I need some more time to figure things out. “They never mentioned it to me.”

  “If we hide the Silo’s entryway really, really well, they may think that we just ran off.” She’s unusually calm. I can’t figure it out. Maybe she doesn’t totally believe that they’ll come at all, or maybe she just has that much confidence in the Silo’s ability to protect us. Either way, I’m not sure she’s facing up to reality.

  “So we’re really going into the Silo tomorrow?” I don’t know what I was hoping for, but I am beginning to realize that it wasn’t this.

  They both look at me.

  “Of course, why wouldn’t we?” Mom asks.

  And all I can say is, “I don’t know, I guess.” Maybe my attraction to Cody is clouding m
y judgment more than I thought. They don’t seem rocked by what I’ve told them at all. I try to push away the lingering doubt that I have, but it’s not easy. My chest keeps clenching uncomfortably. I wish I could just lie down and sleep, forget the past two days altogether.

  Dad leaves right away to tell Pioneer what I’ve told him. Then Mom puts me to work filling boxes with our pictures, blankets, and clothes. We load them into a golf cart and drive them over to the Silo. It doesn’t take long to put everything away. We don’t have much to unpack. I look around our tiny rooms and try to imagine them as home. I can’t. All I want is to be outside in the open air, in the stables with Indy. That still feels like home, like life. This place … feels strangely like death.

  We finish preparing our private quarters and then help everyone else move what we need from the clubhouse. I visit the stables when I can. The horses are restless and ill-tempered. None of them have been let out all day.

  I go into the tack room to get Indy’s saddle. At least I can work him out before I have to help with dinner. But when I open the tack room door, all the saddles, blankets, and reins are gone—as well as all the rifles we keep there. I’ll have to ride him bareback.

  I put my hand on Indy’s side and lead him out. The other horses bang on their stall doors and whinny. They want out too, but I can’t take them all by myself. Still, I resolve to remind my dad to put them in the corrals before we enter the Silo for good. They can’t be cooped up in their stalls until someone comes out here again. The way the sheriff talked, it might only be a couple of days, but I don’t want to rely on that. It’ll be hard enough to say goodbye to Indy today without worrying if he’s okay. I don’t like leaving him out here, but I don’t have a choice. The Silo’s no place for animals.