by Joe Hart
At the top of a long set of stairs they exit onto a street lining the harbor. There are buildings everywhere that have been stripped and repurposed from their original construction.
Here is what appears to be a seaside restaurant that now is a fortification with a dozen men inside.
There a home with its front torn away to reveal stacks of sandbags protected by a rusting tin roof.
Stretching away down the shore from the last building is a ten-foot-high chain-link fence, its top looped with razor wire that’s gone dark with age and weather. Waiting for them on the street are two low vehicles and a van, all of them green and black camouflage. The soldiers carrying Lee bring him to the rear of the van and load him inside as the lead man gestures toward the other two military vehicles.
“Get in, please.”
“Where are you taking us?” Zoey asks.
“To processing.”
“But he’s hurt. He needs medical attention,” she says, motioning in the direction of the van.
“He’ll be brought to the treatment facility and cared for.”
“I want to go with him.”
“I’m sorry but that’s not an option.” When she doesn’t move the soldier’s expression softens. “He’ll be looked after, I promise.”
Reluctantly Zoey heads toward the waiting vehicle, giving the van a last look before climbing inside. Chelsea sits next to her, and Sherell, Rita, Newton, and Merrill all get in as well. The rest of the group rides in the transport behind them.
Motors rumble to life and then they’re moving swiftly down the street, taking two left turns before driving straight for several blocks. The city they’re in is much larger than Zoey’s first impressions of it. It sprawls away in rows of buildings several stories high with lower structures lining many of its street fronts. The skeletal shapes of trees line the roads on both sides, their branches overhanging the lanes as well as several open expanses of what would be green lawns in the summertime.
Then they’re pulling out from behind a dark-shingled apartment or hotel complex ten stories high and into an open expanse and her attention is caught by the structure situated across the clearing.
It is an immense stone behemoth with wings expanding out in regal stature to either side of its central towers, all of them capped with greenish domes, a golden statue atop the tallest of them. They turn toward the massive building and pull to a stop before its front entrance. Zoey notes Lee’s van continuing past them deeper into the city. It is there and gone behind another storefront. Please be okay, she has time to think before the doors are opened and they pile out.
They are herded up a wide bank of stairs, the building towering above them in rows of windows and balustraded balconies. A set of huge double doors are opened by two soldiers standing beside them, and they are ushered inside, down a hallway with rounded ceilings and arched doorways that empties them out into a sprawling rotunda. The floor is a beautiful mosaic of small tiles, the outside of the design floral while the center suggests a starburst or compass points. Zoey hears a small intake of breath from Chelsea and follows the other woman’s gaze up as they pass through the chamber, and for a moment she is dumbstruck by the sight.
The tallest dome she saw from the outside is directly above them, at least a hundred feet overhead, its center shining with light.
“This way,” the soldier escorting them says, motioning to another hall across the space. They follow him to an inconspicuous wooden door that opens onto a square room with globe lights hanging from its tall ceiling. Two doors at the end of the room beside a large desk are both closed. The soldier gestures toward a bank of seats and sofas before the desk while he takes up a position beside the entrance.
It is deathly quiet in the room except for the occasional squall of one of the babies. Zoey catches Merrill’s eye and he gives her a slight nod.
The left door beside the desk opens and a woman appears. She is compactly built, standing a little over five feet tall with a tight bun of silver hair tied back from a squarish face. She wears a plain gray suit with a white blouse beneath, flat dark shoes on her feet. She rounds the desk and slows, her initial confident stroll diminished, then gone as she stops before them. Her eyes are deep brown and unblinking as she takes them in.
“Hello,” she says after a moment. They rumble a group greeting, their voices mixing. The woman slowly smiles. “My God, I almost don’t believe it. When Major Adams there informed me of the reports of a fishing boat carrying at least six women heading toward the island I thought he was hallucinating.” She beams at them. “Ah, where are my manners, my name is Eleanor Scott. I’m the mayor of Victoria. Welcome to the first city.”
64
They are fed and handed bottles of water, encouraged to sit and rest, all the while Eleanor speaks to them, leaning against her desk casually.
“Victoria started out as a research center for British Columbia a year after the Dearth began. Prime Minister Evans had the foresight to begin fortifications of the city almost immediately. Thousands of troops were based here, and the perimeter fencing you probably noticed on the way in was erected.”
“How far does it run?” Merrill asks.
“Good question. I haven’t the foggiest. Adams?” She directs her gaze at the soldier still waiting by the entrance.
“Approximately sixty kilometers, ma’am.”
“There you are, sixty kilometers. It basically surrounds the city, though the strongest defenses are concentrated in the major ports. We have twenty-four-hour patrols around our borders as well as a functioning surveillance system and early warning marine detection apparatus, which alerted us to your presence this morning.” She smiles at them again, and there is something so genuine about the woman, Zoey feels herself already liking the mayor.
“You said research center,” Rita says through half a mouthful of food. “Can you explain that a little, because honestly, we’re not too keen on research centers.”
Eleanor laughs. “I can only imagine. Our centers were nothing like the National Obstetric Alliance. Prime Minister Evans and his advisors were deeply concerned about the direction the United States was headed early on. Our programs were volunteer only. We had nearly six thousand women and their families arrive here in a matter of months only to have them slowly leave again as things worsened across the world.”
“Why did they leave?” Sherell asks.
“Because this wasn’t their home. I’ve found in a time of crisis or worry, there is no place people would rather be than home. So even though we offered protection and hope, many still chose to leave. Some did find their way here over the next years as the situation deteriorated; I can’t claim my country didn’t have its fair share of senseless violence and bloodshed.” Her face darkens. “That’s why four years after the Dearth began we shut our borders. There was a lot of fighting in those days and twice we were raided, once betrayed from the inside.” Eleanor looks off into space above their heads and Zoey knows she’s reliving some terrible memory. She takes a deep breath. “So after that we instituted the first law that’s kept us safe since that point.”
“What’s the first law?” Zoey asks.
“Once you arrive at the island, you can never leave.”
There is a span of silence before Tia says, “What’s this horseshit?”
Merrill sighs. “Tia.”
“No, I mean it. You’re saying we can’t leave?”
Eleanor nods. “I’m afraid not. We can’t take the chance of word reaching the wrong people.”
“Uh, it’s a little too late for that, sister.” Tia holds her thumb and forefinger a quarter inch apart. “You came about this close to having your asses handed to you.”
Eleanor tips her head to one side. “Enlighten me.”
The group collectively looks to Zoey. She clears her throat and begins talking.
It takes her nearly thirty minutes to briefly explain Hiraku’s arrival in Seattle as well as her and the others’ history at the ARC and beyo
nd. Eleanor listens intently, asking only the odd question from time to time. When Zoey’s finished, she falls silent and takes a sip of water to quench her dried throat.
“That’s an incredible story,” Eleanor says. “The people of Victoria are in your debt. I’m sure you saved countless lives by your actions, though we do have contingency plans for such an occurrence.”
“Like what?” Tia asks.
“We have fallback positions located in the mountains to the north. If our defenses are overwhelmed our entire population can fit inside and wait out the incursion.”
“For how long.”
“Six years,” Eleanor says evenly.
Tia squints at her. “That’s a long fucking time,” she says finally.
“It is a long fucking time,” Eleanor replies deadpan, and Zoey’s initial like of the woman instantly doubles. Tia bursts out laughing, and any lasting tension in the room seems to dissipate.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” Zoey asks after nearly a minute has passed.
“Was who, dear?” Eleanor asks.
“The man who gave Hiraku your location; it was him who betrayed you from the inside.”
“Yes,” Eleanor says in almost a whisper. “Yes, I believe it was.” She seems to recede into herself before focusing her attention on Zoey again. “One question to clarify, Zoey. You said ‘daughter’ earlier. I’m not exactly sure what you meant by that.”
“My daughters,” Zoey replies, nodding to the sleeping child in her arms as well as the girl Chelsea cradles.
Eleanor frowns before leaning back farther on her desk. “You’re saying these two infants are . . . female?”
“Yes.”
The older woman is struck silent. She blinks, truly taking in the two babies for the first time. “I assumed they were your sons. I’m having trouble wrapping my head around this.”
“You can change their diapers if you need proof,” Zoey says. The room erupts in laughter and Eleanor slowly joins in herself. When the mirth dies down, the mayor straightens, appraising them all more closely, as if she is trying to see through any possible false facade.
“I have a feeling we will be spending quite a lot of time together, Zoey,” Eleanor says. She stares at Zoey before clapping her hands together. “I think we’ve all been well met, right, Adams?”
“Absolutely, ma’am.”
“So next—”
“Eleanor?” Zoey says.
“Yes?”
“One of our group, Lee, he’s badly hurt. Some of your people brought him to a medical facility—I’d like to go there now.”
The mayor looks to Adams before nodding. “That can be arranged. First we need to process you, get you settled into your quarters—you’ll be staying here in the parliament building for the first month as a precaution, then situated in your own homes throughout the city. And don’t worry, dear, our doctors will take good care of him.”
Zoey feels such a swelling of gratitude it blocks off her windpipe. “Thank you,” she manages before having to look away.
“Of course. Now, to get you situated . . .” Eleanor moves around her desk and picks up a phone.
“You have electricity and you’ve got working phones too?” Chelsea asks.
“Oh yes. We run a fairly tight ship around here, you’ll see. It’s imperative to keep up with all our residents and their needs.”
Zoey feels her brow furrow. “Residents. You mean women?”
“Yes.”
“How many live on the island?”
“Our last count was six hundred sixty-seven.” Eleanor smiles at their expressions. “Glad I could offer one surprise to balance out the many you brought me today. Their presence is mostly due to President Benson Andrews. From what I learned through the prime minister’s administration, Andrews contacted him personally only days before the rebels detonated the atomic weapon. The president told Evans that he was deeply leery of NOA and their practices and feared he had given them too much power. The day before he was killed, he had a special forces team smuggle over five hundred women and young girls out of the safe haven near Washington, DC. Our own Adams over there was the youngest man on the SEAL team.”
Adams inclines his head slightly as they all turn to look at him. “The president was a good man,” he says quietly. “He made mistakes, listened to the wrong people, just like a lot of us did. In the end he was going to shut NOA down but he wanted to get as many women and children safe first. Only he didn’t get much of a chance.”
“That is why we call the island the first city,” Eleanor says. “For all the chances missed and ill choices made, this place is a new beginning for many.” She looks at Zoey. “I hope it can be for you as well.” Eleanor punches in a number and waits before saying, “We have some new residents. Send Tenner in please.”
Every head in the group snaps up, attention first on Eleanor before traveling to Chelsea at the mention of her last name.
“What . . . what did you say?” Chelsea asks, her voice airy.
But before the mayor can respond the other door behind her desk opens and a female soldier enters. She is petite with chopped red hair that frames her face, and the moment she glances around at them Zoey has the same jarring impression she experienced the first time seeing Nell.
She recognizes this person because she is nearly a mirror image of Chelsea, only slightly younger.
The soldier steps up to the mayor’s desk saying, “You called, ma’am?” But that is all she is able to get out before Chelsea stands and the two women’s eyes meet.
“Janie?” Chelsea breathes.
Janie’s eyelids flutter like moth’s wings and she leans heavily on the desk before launching herself forward into her sister’s arms.
Quiet sobs of joy come from them both as they cling to one another. They rock in place for a time before Chelsea steps back, grasping Janie with one hand while still cradling Zoey’s daughter. “How? Where did you go? Oh my God.” The words run together as she hugs her sister again.
“I looked for you, I did. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Janie says.
Zoey smiles, gazing around at the rest of the group. There are tears and grins everywhere.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I thought you were gone. I thought you were gone forever.”
“I’ve been here. I looked so long and then I found this place.” Janie parts from her sister but doesn’t let her go completely. “I can’t believe I’m looking at you.”
“I can’t believe it either.”
“Janie came to us over a dozen years ago,” Eleanor says, whose eyes are lit with emotion. “She’s been an incredible asset to the island, I don’t know what we’d do without her.”
Janie is introduced all around the group, shaking hands and hugging everyone, though she continues to keep a hold on Chelsea’s sleeve as if she’s afraid the other woman will vanish if she lets her go. And all at once Zoey feels such a longing for Lee it is nearly a physical ache. She realizes watching Chelsea reunite with Janie has brought her back to the moment she saw Lee for the first time in Seattle, the tempest of warring emotions still vivid. What she wouldn’t give to have him here now.
She smiles again as Chelsea kisses Janie’s forehead and puts a palm to her face, soaking in the sight of her sister.
“Well I can’t think of a better way to start off your stay here in Victoria,” Eleanor says. “May every day be as wonderful. Now let’s see to your rooms.”
The hospital is half a dozen blocks from the parliament building, closer to the center of the city. Victoria rises and falls with the land, at times allowing sweeping views of the sea while at others giving the impression of a labyrinth made of buildings that partially block out the sky. The city is well kept, the streets as clean and maintained as any Zoey’s seen. Every so often she spots a woman moving along the sidewalk or climbing into a vehicle, sometimes holding the hand of a small boy or walking arm in arm with a man.
They park beneath the front awning of the hospital, the struc
ture itself a low, sprawling concrete facility that looks as much like a military stronghold as it does a medical center.
Major Adams leads them into an unremarkable atrium lined with counters behind which several men sit, typing away at computers. Rita, Sherell, and Merrill follow her through the space, the others having stayed behind to settle into their rooms at the parliament building.
At the far end of the atrium is a bank of elevators. Adams presses the button marked “3” once they’re inside, and they ride quietly and smoothly upward. The third floor opens to them in a cross-section of halls, a corner counter extending out to their left as soon as they exit the elevator. Adams speaks with a matronly woman with short curly black hair manning the station who points down the right hall without giving any of them more than a cursory glance. They pass four doors, Adams finally stopping at the fifth.
“This is it,” he says. “I’ll have a man posted on ground level to bring you all back to the parliament building when you’re done, and I’ll start working on getting you a set of wheels of your own.” He smiles warmly at Zoey. “Hope he gets better.”
She thanks him and steps through the doorway, heart beginning to slam in her chest. Inside is a large hospital bed beneath a wide window looking out over a forest to the north. Lee lies propped slightly up in the middle of the bed, his head wrapped in fresh gauze, a clear tube running into one nostril. At least six wires extend to various places on his body and a steady electronic beep comes from a machine on a stand beside him.
Zoey crosses to the bed and grasps his hand. It is dry and loose, like a glove filled with water. But it is warm.
“Hey, we’re here,” she says, rubbing his arm. “We made it.” The others cluster around the foot of the bed, each of them saying hello in turn. Lee doesn’t move. Zoey watches his closed eyelids.
Nothing. Not a twitch.
“Hello,” a voice says from the doorway, accompanied by a soft knock. A middle-aged man stands there in a white long-sleeved coat. He is tall and balding, his scalp shining through wisps of light brown hair. He wears glasses and has a long face that seems to match his height. “I’m Doctor Fost,” he says, shaking hands with everyone. “You’re the family of this young man?”