by Amos Cassidy
“And if they’re not?”
She sighed. “Then they die.”
“That’s harsh.”
Her lips turned down slightly, and she gave me the “you poor naive thing” look. “People die, Ash. It’s the circle of life. Our world is filled with death and suffering.”
I tucked my hands into my pockets to prevent myself from slapping her. What the fuck did she know of death? She’d never known hunger, or cold, or pain. She’d been born here, in the safety of Shelter, raised on decent food, hot showers, and warm beds. What the fuck did she know about suffering? Some of what I was thinking must have shown on my face because her expression shuttered.
“They’re children, Nina. Just children. They should have their whole lives ahead of them. There has to be something we can do,” I said.
She shook her head. “I’ve done all I can. All we can do now is pray.”
I did the only thing I could. I watched and I implored whatever forces may still be watching over us to heal these kids. Two hours in, the girl began to convulse and foam at the mouth.
“Nina! Nina! Help!”
But Nina wasn’t around. I had to do something. I grabbed a mask, strapped it over my nose and mouth, pulled on some latex gloves, unlocked the door, and entered the quarantined room. I reached the girl just as she went still. I knew, even before I checked, that she’d have no pulse.
She was dead.
I turned to the boy to find him watching me through bleary, bloodshot eyes.
“Hurts . . . please . . . make it stop,” he whimpered, and then his eyes rolled back in his head. He began to convulse. I rushed over to his bed, knowing not to try and hold him down, just to wait and watch.
“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay . . .” I hated this, hated lying, because I knew that whatever had happened to his sister was happening to him. It didn’t take long before he was lying limp and unresponsive on the bed. Gently, I rolled him into the recovery position. With great trepidation, I took his pulse.
It was there, weak, but there. He was alive. “Stay with me, honey. Please stay with me.” I smoothed the damp hair from his forehead. “Come on, you got so much to look forward to, so much to live for. You can do it, you can fight this.” I squeezed my eyes shut and imagined him healthy, a rosy flush to his cheeks, a cheeky smile on his lips. He had to live.
Images flashed through my mind, emaciated pale figures, curled up in a nest of rags, mum and dad. The long sleep.
Not again, I couldn’t do that again.
“Ash?” Nina’s voice blared through the intercom.
I ignored her and held him tighter, felt his heart beat stronger, felt his limbs gain strength.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” I opened my eyes and stared at the lifeless, barely warm body in my arms.
“It doesn’t hurt.”
I looked up to see him standing there all rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed and full of life, even though his lifeless body was cradled in my arms. “What? How is this happening?”
He glanced up over my head and his eyes widened. “I think I’m dreaming . . . I like this dream.”
“Ash!”
I blinked and he was gone.
“Ash, he’s gone.”
Yeah, he was gone. The only question was where?
***
Luckily for me, I’d remembered to put on the mask and gloves. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure Nina would have happily sealed me up in quarantine. Instead, I managed to escape. Away from the questions, the concern, the probing, away to my room where I could pace and worry about the state of my sanity.
I was slipping. It was obvious; some kind of mind sickness, something invisible but equally detrimental. First the voice in the Shadowlands and now this . . . vision. Or was there another explanation? Had I imagined the voice that had spoken to the beast? Had I been so afraid that I had conjured up a saviour, when in reality the monster had sensed the arrival of other monsters and bolted of its own accord? Had I wanted to see the dead boy alive and well so badly that I had conjured a vision of him to appease my subconscious?
A rap at my door broke my train of thought. I pulled it open to find Clay looking sheepish. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Sorry about yesterday.”
“No, I’m sorry. I overreacted. You were only trying to help.”
“Yeah I was. You’re right, you completely overreacted.”
I punched him lightly on the arm.
“You coming to the meeting?”
Was it that time already? “Yeah. I’m surprised you need to go since you’re dating one of the council members.”
“You know Blake doesn’t—”
“Bleh! I know. Come on, let’s find out what all the secrecy has been about.”
We made it to the auditorium just as the doors were closing. They were sticklers about timing in Shelter, especially the meetings. The Peace Keepers ushered us in and locked the door. Peace Keepers really didn’t have much of a role here, they were supposed to keep order, but the Shelter ran like clockwork, and the threat of expulsion from the complex was enough to keep the residents in order. No one wanted to brave the slums.
Clay and I slipped in at the back of the large auditorium. All the seats were taken, and residents were standing along the walls. Some looked worried, some looked excited, others just looked like they’d rather be anywhere else but there.
I leaned back against the wall, crossed my arms, and waited.
The doors at the back of the room opened and the council walked in: three men and four women all from the first families—the families who’d got the Shelter organised and running. They were good people. I knew most of them well. My eyes roved over them as they filed in: Blake, Finn, Vanessa, Duncan, Julie, Lila, and Ann. The last two women I didn’t really know too well. Lila was the mother of the Powers That Be and Ann was her sister. They weren’t the most approachable people, but they knew what they were doing.
They took seats on a raised platform behind a long desk in the front. It was all very organised. There were even microphones that linked to speakers around the room.
Duncan ran a hand over his balding head and cleared his throat into the mike. He flashed a smile and nodded at someone to his left in the audience. “Hello, all. Thanks for joining us at such short notice.”
Short notice? Right, like the grapevine hadn’t been buzzing about this meeting for days. Sure, the exact date and time weren’t final, but still.
“I realise there has been some anxiety, some rumours as to the state of, um, affairs as it relates to, um, supplies, but we are here to assure you that we have everything under control.” He glanced to his right at Blake, who inclined his head before leaning forward to speak into the mic.
“Yes, it’s true that the Cusp has become depleted. And yes, it’s true that we will be phasing out the Reaper Programme—” The gathering erupted with cries of alarm.
I pushed off the wall and moved forward, my mouth open in shock. I felt Clay’s hand on my elbow but shrugged him off. Movement caught the corner of my eye, and I turned my head to see Bernadette staring at me, her lips pressed together, her eyes dark.
“Please! Settle down!” Lila jumped up, her hands raised, her face stern.
The crowd quietened, and I could hear my pulse pounding in my throat. I tore my attention from Bernadette and back to the podium.
Lila picked up where Blake left off. He was sitting back in his seat, his gaze fixed on a vague point in the air.
“Now,” Lila said, “we appreciate that this is a big decision, and it’s not one we’ve come to lightly, but there is no point in wasting resources on something that will not yield any results. The Reapers will be retrained and reassigned to agricultural pursuits.”
Agriculture? There was no fertile bloody soil up there!
“We have recently discovered a good few acres of soil that we have been assured can be groomed into fertility. Based on the fact that the Cusp is now barren, this knowledge has come at the
most opportune time.” She smiled.
My eyes narrowed. She was lying. Why was she lying? My eyes flicked to Blake, who had a blank expression on his face. The only indication of his inner turmoil was the tick in his jaw.
Yep, something fishy was going on all right.
The door behind them opened, and a short, weathered-looking man stumbled in. He glanced at the crowd with wide, frightened eyes.
“Mr Leatherman, please join us.” Lila waved him up onto the platform and ushered him into a seat. “Mr Leatherman joined us a week or so ago. He came to us with news of fresh land, land he hoped we would help him farm. His two children, unfortunately, passed away.”
Leatherman swallowed hard. His hands were trembling and he looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“So this is our way forward—land and farming and building anew. These are positive times, people, and the Mother has led Mr Leatherman to us. She is saving us once more.”
“Praise the Mother! Praise the Mother!”
Members of the Order stood up and began to sway and chant. I was sure I saw Ann roll her eyes, but I had to be mistaken. She would never ridicule the Order . . . would she?
“Thank you for your patience and understanding. Together we will forge a new world and heal our lands.” The council all stood up, almost as if her words were a prearranged cue. “Reapers will be pooled into general domestic while they are trained. That will be all.”
I watched in shock as they filed out, as people brushed past me to get through the exits and away, back to their homes and duties and ignorant lives.
My gut told me that something was wrong and I knew Blake well enough to recognise the strain on his face. He was hiding something and I was going to find out what it was.
“Ash?” Clay pulled me to the side and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “It’s for the best.”
I looked up at him in horror. “You actually believe that bullshit they just spun?”
He frowned. “What? You think they’re lying?” He shook his head. “The council wouldn’t do that. Blake would never do that. Besides, what possible reason could they have to lie? You said yourself that the Cusp is depleted, and if they’ve found this plot of land then . . .” He shrugged. “Look, I know being a Reaper has always been your thing, but farming could be your new thing. Think how much satisfaction you’ll get from making things grow, from bringing the soil to life.”
I stared at him while he spoke, waiting for the cool, calm façade to crack, waiting for his eyes to darken in comprehension as he realised the truth. But the longer he spoke, the more apparent it became that he’d been taken in. I loved Clay, more than life, more than anything, and I loved his optimism, his eternal light even in the darkest of times. When I fell, when I lost hope, he was the buoy that would bring me back to the surface and keep me afloat. I loved that about him, and I couldn’t bring myself to argue with him, to plant the dark seed of doubt that was blooming in my chest. I’d get proof first.
“Ash, I got a few more rounds, how about we meet up in an hour?”
“Huh?”
“An hour? We can have a chat, catch up . . . I miss you.”
I offered him half a smile. “Well, you’re the one who chose hot sex over spending time with your sister.”
His eyes widened and then he laughed.
“Hey!”
I felt Bernadette’s hand at the small of my back.
Clay looked up at her with a smile. “Bernadette, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, mind if I borrow little sis?”
“Not at all.” He leaned in and pecked me on the forehead. “See you later.”
“Yeah.” I waited till he was out the door and then turned to Bernadette. “So, what are we gonna do?”
Her lips curved in a determined smile. “Get some real answers.”
***
There was only one person we could expect to get anything out of, and we found him where he spent most of his days.
In the Eye.
Bernadette locked the doors when we went in.
Blake was seated at his usual spot at the bank of monitors. His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “Was wondering how long you’d be,” he said.
“Why the bullshit, Blake?” I asked, moving to stand beside him, to force him to look at me.
He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Imagine living in an ant colony, happy and productive and everyone has a role, a purpose that contributes to their survival. A facet they control. It promotes contentment and peace. Now, what if those ants found out that their roles and purposes no longer mattered, that it didn’t matter how well they healed people, or fixed things, or cleaned, or organised, because they were all going to starve to death soon enough. Imagine that.”
I glanced at Bernadette, who moved closer, her eyes fixed on the top of Blake’s bowed head.
“Imagine the chaos,” Blake continued.
“But the greenhouses, the stores . . . I thought we had that to fall back on. I thought Reaping was just . . . extra.”
Blake snorted. “Those stores were set for a population half this size. Maybe if the government had succeeded in occupying Shelter, then it would have lasted another fifteen to twenty years, maybe the barren soil out there would have had a chance to heal.”
“So there is no fertile soil programme?” Bernadette asked.
“Oh, there’s a programme, a doomed programme, a placebo.” Blake sighed. “We had to tell them something. We figured that by the time they realise the truth, they’ll be too weak from hunger to do much about it.”
“You hope they’ll just lie down and die? What the fuck, Blake?” I stepped away from him. I could feel the disgust curling my lip and wrinkling my nose. I was not a quitter. “There has to be another way!”
Blake pinched the bridge of his nose and pressed his lips together before exploding. “Don’t you think we’ve explored every possible option? Ash, there is no other way. We’re fucked! Consider this the end of the human race. The people out there, the ones not lucky enough to make it in to Shelter, they’re all gone. Dead!”
“How can you be so sure?”
“You’re not the only Reaper team, Ash. We send scouts, every month. They always report back with something, some group of humans striving to survive out there. Last month . . . nothing. We’ve tried to reconnect with the other pockets. Shit, I’ve fucking spent every waking hour sending out an SOS, but all I get is static!”
“What about Leatherman?”
“Leatherman came from one of the last groups. He told us how they all died of some sickness, begged us for sanctuary. He had the kids with him and Lila saw an opportunity. He was an outsider. We could use him as our beacon of hope for the future. She allowed him in to Shelter in exchange for his help.”
“For his lies you mean,” Bernadette said. “Shit!” She spun on her heel, walked across the room, and then stormed back. “I’m not rolling over to die. No way.”
“We don’t have a choice. The Cusp has been reaped out.”
“The Cusp has, but . . . but what about Beyond . . . what about farther?” I asked the question, my mind whirring with the possibility, my chest aching with the need to find out.
Bernadette broke the silence with a chuckle. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Why the hell didn’t you just think of that?”
Blake looked up and met my eyes for the first time, and I saw the answer in them as clear as water. They had thought of it. They’d thought of it and discarded the idea.
“Why, Blake? Yeah, it’ll be dangerous, but it’s worth the risk. If we’re going to die anyway, then why not take the risk?”
He glanced at the door and then the Eye: the bank of monitors that showed every inch of the outside, every inch of the inside.
“Because then we die sooner.”
“What? What are you on about?”
“Look, Ash, you cannot tell anyone any of what I’ve just told you, especially not the next part, okay?”
&nb
sp; “Yeah, fine, now spill.”
“If we send anyone farther than the Cusp, then we break the treaty and they will attack.”
I stared at him as if he’d just grown two heads and begun to dance the salsa. “You have a treaty with . . . with them? How the hell?”
“You know when they left us alone all those years ago? Well, the seven founding families approached their leaders for a treaty, some kind of peace so that we could exist unmolested. I don’t know the ins and outs, just that the Shadowlanders agreed. They gave us the Cusp and left us be.”
“Some treaty! They took most of the stuff in the Cusp with them, not to mention the critters that keep coming through the Horizon.”
“Those critters are ours, insects and crawlies affected by the Event. Trust me, the only real danger is in the Beyond.”
“Really? And what about the thing that attacked Ryder? That was no crawly, trust me.”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “That’s just the way it is.”
A treaty that basically locked us in a barren place and left us to starve. Yeah, some fucking treaty! “What if I went in alone? One human. I could be in and out in a few hours. I could get a lay of the land, see what they have over there. I know for a fact that humans desperate enough have migrated over there. When we were out there, when we were children, we saw people cross over, and they never came back. Maybe it’s time for a new treaty.”
Blake sat up. “The few odd stragglers probably died in the Cusp. If they got to the Beyond then they’d be dead, I’m sure. You can’t put us at risk like this. If things go wrong, what then? Then we all die, horrifically!” His words were negative, but his eyes glowed with the first light of hope and so I pushed.
“If I’m caught, I’ll claim to be a straggler from the slums. I’ll claim ignorance.”
“If you’re caught, they’ll kill you.”
“I’d rather die on my own terms then be a slave to fate.”
There was silence and I could practically see the gears in Blake’s head turning.