Time to purify, for real. And it could be . . . we’ve finally found a safe place to call home.
From the darkness where the Rover sits, I take Baby Lou from Serna and step from the shadows into something so amazing, no words can verbalize it. And I’m not alone. Everyone stands in awe, staring out over the massive, buried utopia—strings of multicolored lights hang in jagged, perfect chaos from wall to ceiling, back to wall, to railing, and across the center of a wide open space; a web of glowing rainbow dots on wires. And above is a high dome similar to the one at Gomorrah Grande, except its clear glass lets in the sky’s true blue color.
Below the web and on a looped track zips a screeching, squealing vehicle full of screaming children who are either being tortured or having the time of their lives. Sweetness rises into the air, something delicious and very edible, and my stomach growls.
Zee waves us on from down the long balcony. “You’ll have plenty of time to explore. Let’s get you all cleaned up, in fresh clothes, and I’ll ask the nurses to check everyone over. Then you can all rest, if needed. I’ll speak with Diego and Star, as well, about the condition of your friends.”
“Are Diego and Star . . . Smudge’s brother and sister?” I ask.
“Yes. They are . . . wonderful.”
“It must run in the family. Where did they take her and Emerson?”
“To the medical wing. Once you’re bathed and changed into fresh clothes, and the medical staff has checked you out, you can go see them.”
“Will Smudge be okay?”
“I think so. Her spinal column was not entirely severed, and her body was still warm. They must’ve put her there an hour or so before we found her. She was likely still alive when they threw her down there.”
We pass by open-front rooms with glass walls and doors that face the balcony, along with a tall, rotating, circular thing with seats that AOAI adults and children sit in. They chatter and point at us, curious. But we’re just as curious. I’ve never heard of such a place. So unusual, like walking into a daydream on another planet. Mini-domes along the ceiling let in enough light to douse everything in a soft luminescence. Lush green plants, flowers, and trees surround us, while along the walls grow patches and trails of “common jungle ivy,” as Smudge had called it. There’s a word for this place, and it’s a word I haven’t used in so long: magnificent.
“Dah?” Baby Lou points a slobbery finger toward the rotating wheel, where a little girl waves at her.
“Yes, it looks interesting, doesn’t it?”
She stares with wide-eyed wonder as the wheel turns, then comes to a squeaky stop. An AOAI man with worn, baggy slacks, no shirt, and a hairy chest opens a gate to allow more people through as the wheel rotates down and then stops, letting off each pair sitting in the seats.
“This is called a Ferris wheel,” Zee says. “And the other one is a roller coaster.”
“What is this place? Or . . . what was it?”
“We believe it was once an old gathering place where humans would meet to trade and . . . have fun with their families. We think they buried it to protect it from the sun.”
A toothless elder grins up at us from a stool in a wide doorway. Behind him sits a small cot with stacks of folded clothes, some blankets, and a few neatly positioned other items. The man’s neck bears no tattoo.
“Human,” I whisper.
“A few of them are here. Impures who’ve escaped from Alzanei. A few Pures, as well. They helped a group of AOAIs escape, and in return, were given a home in the Refuge. They . . . accept each other more as time goes by.”
We turn down a walkway bridge that crosses over the open area to the other side, where more open rooms are located. Halfway down, we arrive at a staircase with moving steps. This place gets stranger and more amazing with each passing second.
“Be careful,” says Zee. “Everyone hold on.”
I switch Baby Lou to my other hip so I can grip the railing with my right hand, although I hesitate, unsure of how to mount the thing. But when Zee hops on, I follow her lead, and the moving staircase descends with us on it. Youngers hop on behind me, and squeal, giddy at the thought of moving stairs.
“This place is incredible,” I tell Zee.
“Yes, it is. Humans once lived here, but they most likely died from disease or malnutrition. The AOAIs who discovered it found artifacts . . . along with the bone furnace.”
“That doesn’t sound too nice.”
“It’s where they cremated their dead. They unearthed a couple hundred in there. Fortunately, OAIs can survive on less air, water, and nutrition than humans can, so it’s been easy for them to thrive here. Plus, they can take out the Arc for deep-sea fishing. The water is still cool there.”
“What’s the Arc?”
“A submersible ship. It enters the sea from a tunnel beneath the Refuge.”
At the bottom of the moving staircase, a young AOAI man sits on a tabletop, smoking a pipe. He greets us, and with a tinge of sadness, I think of Mr. Tanner. If only the people of Zentao had come here instead.
“Why didn’t Raffai come here with his people?” I ask.
“He was here for a short time after his daughter and son-in-law were killed. But during a raid in which dozens of humans were slaughtered and AOAIs were taken back to Alzanei, Raffai and his granddaughter, plus a few others, escaped through the ventilation shafts. And that’s when they discovered Zentao.”
“So, Zentao was already there?”
“Yes. But nothing was in operating condition until the AOAIs helped bring everything back.”
“What about those who stayed behind here? How did they survive the raid?”
“Fighting, hiding. Some even took the Arc out to deep sea. They all scattered, making it impossible for Lord Daumier’s men to catch everyone. Then the refugees hunted down those who tried to commandeer the Refuge, killed them off one by one. Thirty-seven men in all. That’s why Lord Daumier’s Clergy is so small; half are dead.”
“Okay . . . what about the explosives? How did they get in?”
“There were no explosives. Those were scavenged later from various ghost cities around Bygonne and set up along the perimeter. Explosives protected by EMP blockers, which act as a polar electromagnetic force field, bounce any unrecognized signals right back to their original source, eliminating the possibility of someone hacking into the Refuge’s operating system.”
I sigh. Another Zentao. Any minute, we could be found and seized. At least, that’s what my mind tells me, no matter how self-assured Zee acts.
“Trust me,” she says. “You’re safer now than you’ve ever been.”
We wait beside the moving staircase while each group steps off, two at a time, and at once, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude when I see their shining faces. Every pair of eyes, so wide with wonder, dart around to take in the amazing new home. Every mouth forms a unique smile, given something to be happy about. And that’s the true magic and miracle here. Even though a sadness lingers with my having to leave Jax and our son behind—and Vila; we weren’t close, but she was still family—a part of me realizes it would be silly not to be grateful for this moment. We escaped another impossible situation and made it here, to the Refuge.
That means we can do it again.
Beneath the huge dome in the center of the Refuge, couples and small groups of AOAIs, with a human here and there, converse warmly, faces alight with love and contentment. As our group passes by, dazed by it all, laughter hangs in the air, a forgotten song, now remembered. It takes me back to a time in the bunkers of Greenleigh when I was young, when Micah Greenleigh was alive and we still had families. At once, I’m filled with a surge of mixed emotions. I want more than anything to call this marvelous place home, and these people our new family, but a darkness behind the wish beckons me to that crevice in my mind where the truth lies, wrapped in Cheyenne’s words: W
hat a journey you have been on, Joy Montgomery. But it isn’t over yet . . . No . . . I’m afraid you have much farther to go.
No matter how comfortable we get, we’re going back to Alzanei. The outcome of that is uncertain, though Cheyenne’s promise that our journey would end in both tragedy and triumph offers some comfort . . . as long as I don’t ponder about the “tragedy” part for too long.
Beneath a potted palm tree, an AOAI wearing a funny hat and sporting an arm tattoo sees us and sets a bottle down. With a giddy chuckle he skips to Zee, lifts her up into the air with a sloppy kiss on the temple.
“Hi, Chuck.” Zee giggles.
With one last squeeze, he sets her down. “I’m gonna have to get used to the change.” He brushes a finger along her cheek. “I love it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you were beautiful before, but this is very nice as well.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your saying so.”
“Of course. And welcome home, gorgeous. I knew you’d come back.”
“Me, too. Things worked out the way they did for a reason.”
Chuck leans back against the wall. “A time and a rhyme for everything.” He winks. “So, you must be Joy.” He holds out a hand, and I shake it.
“Yes, and this is Baby Lou.”
Baby Lou hides her face in my chest, not yet ready to make friends with strangers.
“Well, hi there, Baby Lou.” He grins. “It’s very nice to meet the both of you.”
The rest of the children have continued on ahead, fascinated by every sight, sound, and smell.
“They’ve been through a lot,” I say. “I’ll introduce you to them all soon.”
“Sure thing, Miss Joy. Welcome home.” He removes from his pocket something small—a tiny, tarnished metal rectangle—palms it and puts it to his lips. Sweet music fills the air, and we stroll on, soaking up every last note. Chuck smiles and waves goodbye.
“Chuck seems quite fond of you.” I give Zee a gentle nudge in the ribs.
“Yeah.” She sighs. “I suppose I’m quite fond of him, myself.”
“Oh?”
She grins and drops her gaze to the ground.
“I see . . .” She avoids my grin. “So . . . what did you look like before? I’m curious. Because it’s amazing—and somewhat haunting—how similar you appear to Aby now.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She peers up at me. “It’s a body. It’s not who I am inside.”
“I understand that, but . . .”
“Does it bother you?”
I consider it for a moment. “No. It’s . . . strangely comforting.”
“I’m glad. Because I’ve grown attached to this face.” She chuckles. “That must be a human thing. I’ve never cared about my appearance.”
“When were you here? I didn’t realize you’d been here before.”
“I came here last night. Seraphim’s team, along with Star and Diego, helped me with the program for overriding the OAIs. Chuck drove the Rover to pick me up, and I went back alone right before dawn.”
“Oh, wow. You had a busy night of preparing.”
“I did.”
I take her hand in mine and we share a breath of relief.
“Straight ahead, everyone,” she calls out to the wandering children. “The gray doors at the end down there.”
“Thank you so much for everything you did for us,” I say. “We’d still be there if it weren’t for you.”
She gives my hand a squeeze. “As Chuck says, there’s a time and a rhyme for everything. I’m just glad I stayed in Alzanei after I was awakened. If I would’ve come here, I wouldn’t have been there when you arrived . . .”
We reach the gray double doors that open to a wide room lined with cots, divided down the middle by large, hanging sheets.
Zee motions to the left. “Boys on that side”—then to the right—“and girls on that side. The washrooms have showers, and their closets are filled with various types of clothing. If you need any extras, I can gather more for you. We believe this was set up as an emergency shelter toward the end of the Old World time. A lot of it was this way when they arrived.”
“Pedro?” I search for my brother’s face in the crowd and find him chatting with another boy.
“What’s up?” He inches through everyone until he’s standing in front of me.
“Will you start the boys to bathing? They may need help with the water, or clothes.”
“Sure thing.” He salutes me with his stump. “And Joy?” He wraps me up in his arms. “I love you. My brother would be so proud.”
“Thank you. I love you, too.”
He leans back. “No, little sister, thank you.” And for a moment, I see Miguel in him. The sadness that wishes he was here meets the joy of having his brother here. It’s the way Miguel would have wanted it. Given the choice, he’d have Pedro take his place. And in a way, that’s what he did.
With one last squeeze, Pedro leads the boys over to the left side of the room. Lights brighten as Zee activates the overhead fixtures, and the girls follow Serna to the right side. All at once, thirty-something children claim beds and toss their tired bodies down onto them. But Baby Lou isn’t ready to let go of me yet. She still grips my dress, threatening to yank it from my chest.
“I’ll need cloth that’ll work as diapers,” I tell Zee. “And a new shirt or dress for her. This is the same one she was wearing when we . . . left Zentao.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.” She passes the long row of cots, then turns left into a dark doorway leading to what I’m guessing is the washroom. A moment later, she reappears with a small stack of rags, a wadded-up damp one, and a miniature linen gown. “I’ll get more from the supply room soon.” She sets the stuff in a neat pile beside me.
“Thank you.” I lay my sleepy Baby Lou down on the cot, strip the nasty dress from her body and toss it to the floor. After her diaper’s changed, I blow bubbles on her belly, and her giggle brings tears of joy. I snuggle her, and she bops my head and babbles as if we hadn’t just escaped from another hell. Children are like titanzium—so strong, resilient. They can take so much before their spirits break. And even when they do, it doesn’t take long before they are mended again.
I wipe my eyes. “I’m so glad they let Emerson keep her with him. She was well taken care of while she was away from me.”
“Yes,” says Zee. “He seems like a nice boy. How fortunate he and your baby were that the Queen took a liking to them.”
“It was Ms. Ruby. Before she died, she asked her sister to help us. Ms. Ruby’s love saved us today, too.”
“I knew it would work out.”
“I wasn’t so confident.”
Zee inspects my dress, then makes a face. “A shower would do wonders for you.”
“Ugh, you’re right about that. I’m dying to get out of this dress. And burn it, if we can.”
“Well, there is the bone furnace—”
“Yeah, I think we’ll wait on that. I’ve had enough of bones and corpses for today.”
“Me, too.”
I pick up Baby Lou and set her on my knee. “Momma needs to change out of this yucky dress. Will you go to Zee?”
Zee stiffens.
“Have you never held a baby before?”
She fidgets with a loose string on her own shredded mess of a dress. “My donor, yes. But not me.”
“Well then, here.” I hand over Baby Lou, who at first whines and grabs for me. But too tired to fight, she gives up and instead studies Zee’s face. “Now you have,” I say.
“Hello, Baby Lou. How are you?”
Baby Lou stares at her sleepily.
“She’s tired,” I say. “She’ll fall asleep if you hum to her. That’s what I do, sometimes.”
“Really?”
“Yep. And I need to get out of this thing and rinse the
filth off of my body, then you can go. I also need to get the rest of the girls to bathing. Could you stay with her while I go?”
“Sure, go right ahead. I . . . think she’ll be okay with me.”
“I do, too.” I smile, followed by a yawn. No sleep last night is catching up with me, on top of crashing from all of today’s adrenaline.
“The nurses should be by soon to begin the health screenings,” she says.
“Okay.” I stand and stretch. “You’re going to stay with Zee for a little bit, while I take a bath, all right?” I bend to kiss Baby’s nose. She attempts a whimper, but it turns into another long yawn. I pat her head and turn away before she has a chance to object.
Serna walks back into the room through the side door from where a dim light shines. “Four showers. And the water’s a bit salty, but warm, at least.” She yawns, too.
“Will you watch everyone while I get the youngests bathed?” I ask.
“Sure, no problem. But I’m next.” And she collapses onto a cot.
“Deal.”
To my right, Chloe, Pia, and Raven sit close, whispering amongst themselves. When I walk over to them and crouch down, they silence. Behind the sad, tired eyes, there’s a numbness, deep emotional scars. What that man did to them, no child should ever have to go through. He may not have their physical bodies anymore, but he took something precious from them: innocence, a piece of their souls. And he’ll keep that, too, I’m sure, on some trophy shelf in his mind. The monster. He makes the Reapers look like playthings.
The Soultakers (The Treemakers Trilogy Book 2) Page 26