She started packing.
Twenty-Six
Ida would never have agreed to live in Gatz’s underground bunker if he hadn’t provided her with complete instructions on how to get out in case of emergency. Still, she was keenly aware he could lock them below with no means of escape.
He’d shown her a secret exit. That detail had made all the difference in her decision to take up residence there. After she readied her backpack with supplies, she threw on her jacket and boots, and slipped silently down the hall opposite from Vera and Lucy in the common room.
At the end of the hall was a dead end with a small closet door on the left wall. Ida stole one last glance down the corridor to make sure they didn’t see her. She opened it, pushing winter coats to one side and shut herself in. In the darkness, she felt along the wall’s corners, searching for the tiny crack he’d shown her. Bingo. She felt it and slid her fingers further in to find the small pressure point. A side panel slid open, revealing a passageway.
She edged inside and groped for the light switch Gatz had shown her. The lighting was dim as it flickered on—enough for her to find her way around.
As she made her way through the cold, damp tunnel, the scent of standing water hit her. She jogged to make better time, wanting to be outside before Lucy figured out she was missing and raised the alarm to Gatz.
Drips of water from the tunnel’s ceiling splashed down on her. Near the end of the tunnel, natural light flooded in, and she smiled as she sensed how close she was to being on her own again, the way she had intended to be all along. Her motorcycle stood at the very end of the tunnel next to a circular grate that hid the tunnel exit, just as she had left it.
Gatz had shown her the trick—a handle you could turn from the inside. It couldn’t be opened from the outside unless the intruder happened to be a welder.
She leaned beside her bike and trailed a finger along the polished metal chrome.
Only something didn’t feel right. Was Lucy right? Was she being a coward? She recalled their argument in the bunker. Lucy had been desperate to do or say anything that would change Ida’s mind.
All along, Ida had been weighing various scenarios in her mind. If she and Gatz went after Paul at Vance’s headquarters, they were sure to die.
If Lucy or Gatz went together or by themselves, they’d be toast.
But if she went by herself…
Vance really wanted her. Obviously a sick man, he was searching for a cure. If she turned herself in, he might let Paul go. And if he didn’t, at least Lucy and Gatz would be alive.
What the hell have I gotten myself into? she thought. This was exactly the situation she had tried to avoid. She had nothing—no family, no real home, and no job. Plus her fellow soldiers were all going crazy and dying pointlessly.
And now, a group of misfits had glommed onto her: a teenage girl barely able to take care of herself, her junkie mom who had nearly overdosed, and a freakish half-wolf mutant.
And last but not least, Paul, who had started the whole thing when he’d been shot. I should have left him to die.
Had she not intervened that day in the square with the soldier, and instead just gone on her way, she never would have been in this predicament.
Inside the grate next to her bike, recalling the events of the day in the square, it finally hit her.
She knew what was happening to poison the soldiers and turn them violent.
Twenty-Seven
Lucy rapped quietly on Ida’s bedroom door. She spoke into the door softly, wanting privacy from Vera. It wasn’t often Lucy felt the urge to apologize.
“Ida, can you come out and talk? I’m sorry I said those things about the war.” The last word came out as more of a whisper.
No sound from inside. She must be really mad, thought Lucy. She knocked louder, more insistent. “Please,” she said.
Nothing. Now this was getting to be rude.
“Ida?” She tried the doorknob, and to her surprise, it opened. Inside, the room was empty. “What the…?” she muttered to herself. She rushed back to the common room, and blew past her mom. “Ida’s gone,” Lucy said. Into the message box, she typed:
G—
Come down. Urgent.
-L
Lucy started searching the dwelling for any signs of Ida. Was she hiding? Ida was smarter than that. If she wanted to be gone, she’d have found a way out.
As she searched each room, closet, and cabinet, she knew Ida had bolted.
The green light appeared and the message box buzzed. Lucy ran over, and the message from Gatz told her he’d be down in five minutes.
The forgotten puzzle lay scattered on the coffee table. Leaning forward on the couch, Lucy stared at it for a minute. Then, in one heartsick, frustrated motion, she swept it from the table. Puzzle pieces flew everywhere. She picked up one of the pieces and held it in front of her, inspecting it.
Just as Vera asked what was wrong, Lucy ran over to the message box. Suddenly the door above opened and Gatz appeared. Lucy shouted at him, “The commercial! Can you bring it here?”
Gatz disappeared into his office for a quick moment and then scrambled downstairs, tablet in hand. “What’s going on?”
“Ida’s gone.” She grabbed his tablet, ran to the couch, and started searching for the commercial.
He watched as she played it three times in a row. On the fourth replay, she paused just before the end. She returned to the last scene with Paul and played it two more times.
“What are you looking for?” he finally asked.
“He’s trying to say something. To leave a clue,” said Lucy, gazing at the screen, transfixed. “Sit down.” She motioned next to her, and Gatz took a seat. “You hear him at the end? His speech is odd—different from everything else he was saying. And it’s only when Paul’s on screen.”
“The part about the ointment? I thought that was odd.”
Lucy finally broke away from the screen. “Not only odd, it’s creepy. The whole last part. It’s like he sounds ominous, scolding. I think he’s trying to send a message to Ida.”
Gatz leaned forward. “For they are the ointment to what ails us.” He clapped. “Healing—it’s meant to be about Ida!”
“Exactly. Now, what else is Vance trying to say?”
“Play it again,” said Gatz. Vera lingered behind them, transfixed.
Lucy replayed the commercial a few more times. The trio listened in silence.
“Look no further than the children for our rescue, for they are the ointment for what ails us. Out of the eater, something to eat; out of the strong, something sweet.”
Behind them, Vera muttered something, but Gatz and Lucy, engrossed in the commercial, failed to hear. She started kneading her hands.
Lucy glanced behind her. “Mom, what’s up? You ok? We’re trying to figure out a clue.”
Gatz searched for the quote online. Vera swayed, mumbling.
“What are you trying to say?” Lucy, now worried, grabbed Vera’s shoulders to steady her. “Mom, look at me! What is it?”
Vera’s gaze came to rest on her daughter’s face. Slowly, she said, “Sweeter than honey. Stronger than a lion.”
“She’s right,” Gatz piped up from the couch. “According to this, it’s an old biblical riddle. Vance said, ‘Out of the eater, something to eat; out of the strong, something sweet.’ It was a riddle posed by Samson after he had killed a lion with his bare hands. Later, when he returned, a swarm of bees had created a hive in the lion’s carcass.”
He continued reading silently. “And she’s right. The answer to the riddle is ‘What is sweeter than honey? What is stronger than a lion?’”
“Yes,” Vera smiled.
“You did good, Mama!” Lucy led Vera to the couch. “What’s Vance trying to tell us about bees and lions?”
“So, he could be trying to give a location to Ida,” said Gatz. “If he thinks she cares enough to rescue Paul, he’ll want to negotiate with her somewhere private. His own place d
raws too much suspicion—too many cameras and important people. Might ruin Vance’s image as the visionary young mayor.”
“Try looking up lions and bees,” Lucy said. “Maybe it’s a restaurant or a store.”
Gatz typed away on his tablet, searching for anything in Spark City that might be related.
Lucy busied herself in the kitchen and started pulling out supplies—knives, chemicals, and anything else useful to them as they went after Ida and Paul.
Vera leaned over, picked up a few puzzle pieces, and started tossing them in the box. She glanced at the cover as she tidied up. Suddenly, she gasped.
“Mom, what now?” Lucy said.
Vera turned the cover over and slid it across the coffee table to Gatz. The puzzle scene was the city of Chicago from thirty years before droughts and fires had thrown the U.S. and other nations into turmoil. Before the city collapsed and Spark City grew from its ashes. When completed, the puzzle would show sparkling buildings and crystal blue water with sandy shorelines and a large Ferris wheel.
It bore a slight resemblance to Spark City today—that is, if you squinted your eyes and tried to see past the dark, polluted water and the decaying, abandoned buildings that made up the current skyline.
The puzzle scene was idyllic. A bright and shiny gem of a city, it seemed a universe away.
Vera glanced at Lucy and Gatz. “I used to go there as a little girl.” She pointed at a spot on the puzzle box cover. “The zoo.”
Just then, Gatz received a video text. He glanced at his biocuff quickly, then did a double-take. “It’s Ida.” As he pressed play, he recognized the inside of his escape tunnel; he could see the grate behind her.
Ida spoke into the camera:
“Gatz, I know where Paul is. I’m going after him on my own. It’s me Vance wants. Don’t get any ideas. Absolutely no one is to follow me.”
She paused and chose her next words carefully.
“Take care of Lucy and her mom. They need your help. Also…”
Lucy’s nails dug into Gatz’s arm.
“I know what’s happening to the soldiers. The city, government, whatever—they give the returning soldiers vaccinations. I refused mine. I’m sure many others don’t. That’s got to be it. I can’t think of anything else. Be safe.”
Twenty-Eight
Ida had figured out Vance was talking about the zoo as soon as she’d had a minute to herself and run a search on her biocuff. Hidden from the others, the device gave Ida spotty connectivity to the outside world. She used it sparingly, in case Gatz was right and they really were at risk of being discovered.
Vance was brazen. If he had any clue to her whereabouts, he would have sent a surge of robots to attack.
The fact he’d shown Paul in his ad and mentioned ailing had told her he was talking to her. She’d searched the phrase he’d used—an old biblical reference to lions and bees. Where would lions be other than a zoo?
She approached on her motorcycle and parked half a mile away. Her own place wasn’t far from the zoo, and she’d started learning her way around the area. On foot, she could traverse the woods quietly. She jogged and stopped, listening for sounds of activity. No doubt Vance’s droids guarded the perimeter.
She figured she might be safe from harm on the way in. He needed her alive, after all. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t injure her first. Or trap her.
If Vance got his way and Ida cured his mystery illness, what then? Would he keep her around and try to make her his bodyguard, like Gatz had? He would try to control her. And if he did, he best put her in a straight jacket, because the first chance she had to kill him, he was toast.
She continued her careful progress toward the zoo. Whatever traps Vance had in place were hidden. Nothing, man or machine, impeded her journey.
The main zoo entrance had long been shuttered and blocked off with a tall fence, and bolted securely. Sections of the fence surrounding the zoo’s perimeter had been cut and vandalized over the many years since it ceased operations. The abandoned zoo had long been a refuge for squatters and thrill-seeking teens.
On a previous trip through the woods, she had chanced upon a second side entrance, but had only a vague recollection. She went too far in the wrong direction, but found it on her second try.
A padlock that secured a small access gate within a chain-link fence had rusted through and now hung off to one side. The gate swung lazily in the wind.
Ida squeezed through, expecting to be grabbed at any moment, or to have police droids attack. She entered the zoo grounds cautiously, taking slow, steady steps and scanning for threats while gripping Gatz’s gun.
The quiet air was eerie. In winter, the sun set early. Being inside an abandoned zoo without lights was beyond creepy.
At least mother nature had cooperated. Ida could see by the light of the nearly full moon.
She followed a crumbling asphalt path that wound to the left, assuming it led to the central area of the zoo. An old graffiti-covered billboard showed a close-up photo of a polar bear, and said, “NEW POLAR HABITAT COMING SPRING 2017.” Nearly thirty years earlier.
Trash littered the ground, remnants of parties long past. Vagrants had built a bonfire in the old hippopotamus enclosure. They’d burned all manner of objects pulled from nearby zoo buildings.
Before long, she noticed a light ahead. The path opened to what must have once been the zoo’s main gathering area. A beam shone into one of the enclosures. She edged along the wall of a nearby building, hoping for a better view.
Suddenly a crackling sound pierced the quiet. She looked up to see old loudspeakers atop tall poles. Amazed they still worked, she heard Vance’s voice echo through the park. “Well done,” he declared. Then he slowly clapped, mocking her. “You crept up like a stealthy tiger, but I know where you are.”
All at once, bright beams of light shone on Ida. Police droids lined the tops of nearby buildings, and air drones hovered nearby.
“My droids see all. Now, be a good girl and drop your weapon, please. Let’s not take too long. The clock is ticking!”
Ida had no choice but to place her gun on the ground.
“Now, time to come out and play. Make your way closer so we can talk.”
Ida ventured slowly toward the droid lights and Vance’s voice.
“Good, just a little farther now. There. Stop!”
She did as told, realizing she’d ended up in front of a massive stone enclosure with replicas of canyon walls. A small iron fence separated her from a large pit designed for animals.
The lights from the droids flickered off, and another light from within a small, glass-enclosed room came on. Inside, Vance lingered, microphone in hand, two men at his side.
And a woman—thin and petite, with short brown hair and glasses. Odd. She thought Vance preferred supermodels.
“Where’s Paul?” shouted Ida toward the glass room where Vance and his team had gathered.
From the loudspeakers, he said, “Do you really think you’re in a position to ask questions?”
She studied the group, weighing her options. Something was unusual about Vance’s attire. Despite the cold, he wore a suit jacket with nothing underneath. Odd, since he was well tailored in his commercials and on the news.
What was going on with him? Half his face, both hands, and part of his chest glinted silver in the moonlight, like his droids. Gatz had mentioned the mayor had a prosthetic hand, but now most of his body?
He continued speaking through the loudspeaker, the glass room protecting him and his entourage. “I’ll ask the questions tonight. Understand?”
She nodded.
“First question. I’ve heard about your powers of healing. Is it true you can heal people’s injuries and diseases?
“Yes, it’s true. I heal people.”
“Fascinating,” he said. The loudspeaker went off, and he chatted with his companions. After a minute, he switched the loudspeaker back on. “As it turns out, I am in need of a person with your…abil
ities.”
She nodded. “I’ll help you. But only if you let Paul go first. And I want to see him go safely before I help you.” Ida’s voice echoed through the empty park.
He gazed at her with amusement. After a moment, he said, “He’s here. And he’s free to go as he likes.”
Suddenly, loud music flooded through the loudspeakers. It sounded like old-time marching music. A large spotlight switched on and lit the tall stone enclosure. Paul perched on top of a tall boulder. Below him, circled two large mechanical creatures that resembled lions. They were made of the same steel alloy as Vance’s police. With every turn, the machines roared and lunged at Paul. They were close to reaching him, and Paul had to dodge and kick away their giant paws.
Vance smiled from his enclosed viewing room. “I had them created for this special occasion. After all, what good is a zoo without animals?”
“Let him go!” Ida shouted toward the glass booth. She ran to the edge of what was the audience viewing platform. She could easily scale the small fence, but the deep pit below was a problem. She couldn’t scale it even if she took a running leap.
She scanned the booth for a reaction from Vance. He’s testing me. The thought flashed through her. He wants to know how much I care.
The android lions had grown bolder. They started running from a distance so they could leap higher. The one with a mane nearly knocked Paul off the top of the boulder.
Paul shouted, “Help!”
She tensed. Her gun had been confiscated by the droids and was no longer an option. She needed a rope to scale the pit. Failing that, she needed a huge distraction.
She spied a pile of trash on the ground next to an old trashcan, into which she stuffed pieces of garbage—old paper, cardboard, and small sticks. She put anything she could find inside. Then she drew a flask from her inside jacket pocket, along with a lighter.
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