“What’s the difference between these people and the ones we saw on the way to your dad’s?” she rests her chin on her fist and asks, focusing all her attention on Sully.
“Are you serious? You can’t see?”
Sarah puffs out her lower lip and pouts. “No, why don’t you tell me.” She bats here eyelashes coyly, only Sully seems put-off by her gesture not charmed by it. He is immune to whatever spell she’s cast over Will.
“Uh, for starters there’s the food. This is not how the President, my dad, eats, and neither do the people who live around him. They can afford better. And it’s not just the food, it’s the houses, and—”
“Why can’t the people here have the same stuff?” Sarah interrupts him. “What can’t they better their situation?”
Sully’s eyes narrow and he leans in, his top lip snarled over his teeth. In a low growl of a voice, he says, “You think these people haven’t tried? You think they’re lazy or not as smart or good as the people on the other side of town? You’ve been here for five minutes.” He licks his lips and exhales exasperatedly. “You don’t know the first thing about how the city works.”
Sarah raises her hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, someone’s extra sensitive,” she says acidly, but no one laughs, not even Will. She clears her throat and shifts uncomfortably. “Maybe you can explain how this city works another time,” she says tightly.
Sully ignores her and eats silently. All of us do. But when I notice an odd occurrence, I nudge Sully with my elbow. “Sully,” I whisper. He looks at me and nods as if questioning what I want. “Don’t look right now, but in a second, look at the three tables directly in front of us. The people there keep turning and, I swear they’re looking at me.”
“You? Why would they look at you?” Sarah overhears me and asks.
Sully shoots her a harsh look. He scratches his chin and feigns interest in his tray then looks up inconspicuously. When he returns his attention to our table, he says, “You’re right They are.”
“But why?” I ask.
“Shh, wait a second.” He holds his hand up, silencing our group. And when he does, one word continues to undulate and roll like a wave on water: Azlyn.
I look at him curiously. “Azlyn? Who’s Azlyn?”
Molten brown eyes stare straight through me when Sully turns to face me. “You,” he says. “You are Azlyn.”
“Me? I’m Avery.”
“No, Azlyn means a vision or a dream. That’s the meaning of the name of the girl in a story we’ve all heard, a bedtime story our parents told us. Azlyn had blonde hair, like you.”
Paler than June’s, locks of the flaxen fill most of the outer layer of my hair.
“Look around. No one has blonde hair here, certainly not as light as yours.”
I want to ask him more, to find out why, but crossbow carrying men in dark uniforms enter the cafeteria and silence everyone.
“Great, they’re here.” Sully practically spits his words. “Welcome to New Washington,” he adds snidely before the room grows as still as a tomb.
In my mind, I scream at the top of my lungs and know in the deepest recesses of my being that I am not going to fare well in the underground city.
Chapter 14
I wake with a start, pulled from the same nightmare that’s plagued me night after night for years by the sound of a female voice. The television screen on the wall is lit, the rectangular field filled with the stern face of the woman from yesterday. “It is time to wake. I repeat it is time to wake.” She continues to say the same sentence over and over. I spring from the bed and move to the monitor, sliding my fingers along the smooth perimeter of it.
“Please, make it stop.” June rolls to her side. “Make her be quiet.”
“I’m trying.” As my fingertips skim the edges of the television, I don’t feel any bumps or buttons. “I don’t think there’s an off switch.” I step back and look for a cord to unplug. I don’t see one. “There’s no way to shut her up,” I say with resignation. “Let’s hope she goes away in a few minutes.”
The voice continues, the slight nasal twang to her voice grating on my nerves.
“Ugh!” June yanks her covers over her head.
Deciding to play with my sister, I say, “June, what if she sees you and that’s why she keeps telling us, well, you, to get up?”
June bolts upright. Her eyes are round as they dart from side to side. She scuttles to the foot of the bed, waving her hands in front of her. She looks directly at the monitor. “I’m up. I’m awake. See?” She snaps to get my attention. “Do you think she sees that I’m awake now?” she smiles and talks through her teeth, her gaze never wavering from the television.
Laughter grips me, contracting my stomach muscles so hard they hurt. “Oh June,” I gasp, tears gathering. “I was just kidding around. She can’t see us.” I continue laughing.
She looks from the screen to me, a giant, unnatural smile plastered on her face. “How can you be so sure?”
The woman’s voice stops abruptly, and the monitor goes dark. My head snaps toward it, my laughter ending.
“See?” June points to the dark screen. “Not so funny now, is it?” She tips her chin triumphantly. “And to think, if she reports directly to President Sullivan, he’s going to know you mocked me for following directions.” She leans forward, her eyes unfocused as she stares at the floor. “He might think your behavior is so offensive that he sends us back up to the surface.” Her head drops into her hands, her shoulders slumping dejectedly. “I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to run from Urthmen and Lurkers anymore.”
Guilt wraps me in a thorny blanket of gloom. I was just joking. I didn’t think there was any truth in my silly prank, not at first. “June, I’m, I’m,” I fumble. “I’m sorry. I was just messing with you, teasing you, you know? I had no idea she could see us.” The last thing I want is for June and the others to get kicked out because of me. I don’t want them to get kicked out at all.
June’s head is lowered. She’s crying, no doubt. I move toward her.
When I place a hand on her shoulder, her head whips around, and a giant grin rounds her cheeks. “Ha! You should see your face right now!” She is the one who giggles this time. “Oh Avery!” She clutches her belly, doubling over. “What am I, a baby? I mean, come on! And even a baby wouldn’t believe the lady in the television could see us!”
Heat creeps up from my collar and spreads across my cheeks. “I guess I’m a baby then, because when the woman finally stopped, I believed it.”
“I guess you are!” Her laughter is infectious. I can’t help but smile, despite the fact that I am the butt of the joke.
“Yeah, well, maybe I am.” I give her shoulder a playful shove. She keels over against the mattress on her side. “But this baby is going to try out that shower first.”
Propping herself up onto one elbow while wiping tears with her free hand, June still smiles. “Do you think it sprays hot water like the one in the room we were held in?”
I don’t like to think about the first day I spent here. I especially don’t like to think about her first day here, given that it was identical to mine. A small shock bolts down my spine, making me shudder.
June frowns, remembering the day herself, I’m sure. I hate that she has that experience branded in her memory for the rest of her life. I wish I could erase it, wipe it clean.
I hang my head, shame loading it with immeasurable weight. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out.” I force a smile, for June’s sake.
“Go right ahead. I want a full report when you get out.” She winks at me.
“All right, I’m sorry, but first you zing me by reversing my joke and turning it on me, and now you wink at me. You’ve already got the little half-smirk down pat, by the way. What’s next? Is Sully recruiting you when I’m not looking or something?”
June’s eyes widen, her lips part, and her cheeks glow a heated red. She pauses for a beat, speechless. But quickly, she recovers a
nd throws a lopsided smile my way. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she says, purposely trying to sound mysterious.
I swat the air in fake frustration, drawing more laughter from her, and then march into the bathroom.
Once inside, I fiddle with the knob over the toilet for several moments before, finally, a trickle of lukewarm water rains from it. It’s a far cry from the powerful surge in the quarantine room, and noticeably colder, but without a river nearby, it’s my only option available to clean myself. I lather myself with a cube of hard matter called soap, a substance I learned of from overhearing the men who scrubbed me. I rinse quickly and report back to June that my experience was unexciting. I leave out the fact that my heart was drilling my ribs due to the overwhelming sensation that the walls of the compact space were closing in on me. She showers quickly and we review the course schedules that were slipped under our door after we fell asleep.
“Where are you supposed to go first?” June asks as she combs her fingers through her hair, her schedule resting on her lap.
“Uh, history. You?”
“I have to go to something called ELA. What do you suppose that is?” She rumples her brows in consternation.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head and grow increasingly wary of the underground city with every minute that ticks by. The urge to follow her to her classes mushrooms.
As if sensing my thoughts, June says, “Well, whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll be fine. All these classes are to teach us important stuff. How bad could they be?”
Classes to teach us stuff! The notion seems absurd. The world on the surface doesn’t require multiple lessons or programs. It doesn’t require lectures, either. All anyone needs to know is how to survive. The other stuff is nice, but not helpful. If a Lurker is on your heels, the last thing you’re thinking about is wars fought centuries ago. No, there’s nothing in the classes listed that has any useful information to impart. I know all I need to know. Urthmen and Lurkers hunt us. They are to be killed on sight. Humans need food and water daily if possible. I know of which vegetation to avoid, and which animals have the most meat. Beyond that, there’s nothing else that’s necessary.
“Hello? Avery! Are you listening to me? Are you okay?” June’s worried voice saturates the thoughts pounding through my brain.
“What? Oh yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking,” I scramble to reply.
June purses her lips at me. “Please, Avery, just give this a chance. I want to be here.” Her eyes are lakes of glistening, silvery water, pleading with me.
“I know you do, June. I do. And I want to be here, too. I admit, the whole course thing seems kind of stupid. I mean, I’m seventeen; an adult for goodness’ sake! What can anyone teach me that I don’t know already?”
With her eyes narrowed to slits, June folds her arms across her chest. She doesn’t need to speak a word. Her expression says it all.
“But for you, and everyone else, I’m willing to open my mind and do whatever I’m told.” I say what I think she wants to hear and hold my breath until a broad smile bends her lips. “Besides, Sully told me to enjoy my time in school because as soon as it’s done, we’re assigned to work detail.” I scrunch my features exaggeratedly. “I’ll gladly sit beside a bunch of kids and learn what they’re learning rather than that,” I say when in truth, work doesn’t scare me in the least.
“Good.” June smiles at me proudly. “You had me worried there for a minute.”
“I’m sorry. And really, June, you have nothing to worry about. I’m not going to ruin this. I promise.”
Appeased, she slips her hand into mine and escorts me to the door. She opens it and steps out into the hallway. Riley, Oliver and Will are waiting, talking to Sully and Jericho.
“Hey, there they are,” Sully says to Riley. Then to June, he says, “I bet you’re excited about your first day of school, right?”
June lowers her eyes to her feet and transfers her weight from one foot to the next.
“Hey, June bug, what is it?” Sully hooks his finger under her chin, lifting her face so that she looks at him. “You okay?”
Blushing, she looks away. “Well, I guess I’m a little nervous. Mostly excited, but a little nervous, too.”
“You have nothing to worry about. No one’s going to mess with you, I promise, especially since they know you’re with the President’s son.” Sully winks at her.
Ordinarily, I’d be thrilled that he’s calming her; that the worry line creasing her brow has disappeared. But my mind is stuck on the fact that she’s nervous, or more specifically that she didn’t tell me that she was nervous. She never mentioned it. I wonder why she feels comfortable sharing this with Sully and not me.
“Me, too,” Riley exclaims. “Only I’m mostly nervous and only a little excited. And does everyone know that you’re our friend, Sully?” She bites her lower lip then says, “Also, what’s ELA? I have that class first and I don’t know what it is.”
“June, too, and we don’t know what it is either,” I answer.
June rushes to Riley’s side and they scan their schedules. They squeal with delight when they learn that both are identical. They will be together the entire day. I feel a modicum of relief knowing neither will be alone. Oliver will be with them, as well, though he is less enthused by this information.
“ELA is an acronym for English Language Arts. It’s a class that teaches you about the language we speak.”
“But we already know how to speak.” Riley’s forehead rises and half her mouth tilts upward in confusion.
Sully chuckles. “You’ll learn more about it, reading and writing, the mechanics and stuff. You’ll see. Trust me it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“My parents taught us to read and write already. I don’t think I need to relearn it,” Riley comments.
“Our father taught us too,” June adds.
“That’s terrific. You guys are ahead of the game already,” Sully says.
Riley still looks skeptical but shrugs. Then she and June bow their heads and pore over their schedules. All I see is a mound of curly gold hair and a mound of straight dark-brown hair.
Will smiles and nods toward them, raising his brows. Their worries appear to be forgotten at the moment. “What classes do you have?” he looks at me and asks.
“History.” I roll my eyes.
“Me, too.”
“Me and Jericho, too,” Sully says.
Will goes down the list of classes he has. I’m thrilled to find out that the four of us will be together for each class.
When Sarah flounces out of her room with her brother in tow, I’m reminded that she’ll likely be a part of our courses, too. Clean and polished like the furniture in President Sullivan’s castle, Sarah looks radiant even though she wears a white jumpsuit identical to all of ours.
“Hey everyone,” she says excitedly. “I have this sheet of paper. I found it on the floor this morning. What is it? What does it say?”
June and Riley look at Sarah. Their expressions are almost apologetic. Sarah was a captive of the Urthmen, a slave. Reading and writing were skills she was never taught.
Will leans in and takes the paper from Sarah’s hand. He smiles at her sympathetically and tells her, “You have a full schedule of classes, just like the rest of us.” He then compares his sheet to hers. “And it looks as if we’ll be together all day.”
“A full schedule?” Her plump pink lips are parted and her head is tilted to one side.
“Classes where we learn stuff,” Will says with tenderness that borders on affection.
“Yeah, and they start today.” Sully shakes his head and makes plain his annoyance. “You’d think I’d get to skip going, but no! I have to go. Guess I’m being punished for leaving. I get to repeat courses I’ve already taken.” He huffs loudly.
“Gee, I guess I’m the only one who’s happy about heading to,” she pauses and fumbles with the piece of paper in her hand, “Where are we headed, Will?”
“The
Learning Center,” Will answers.
Sarah tosses her head back and sweeps a cluster of silky hair that spills over her shoulder to her back, thrusting her ample chest out in the process. “To The Learning Center we go!” she says with increased enthusiasm. “I, for one, am thrilled to go, thrilled to be here.”
“Well good for you,” Sully mutters.
I’m stunned that he’s impervious to her obvious genetic gifts, especially since she wields them like weapons, seemingly ensnaring the attention of all the males around her. All except Sully. Instead of being fascinated by her, he seems immune to her allure. I wish I could say the same for Will. Rapt by her giggling and hair tossing, his eyes are riveted to her.
My insides scream again, so loudly I worry those around me will hear. I’m so confused by Will’s sudden change of heart. I bite the inside of my cheek and inhale sharply through my nose. June looks up at me. As someone who knows me almost as well as I know myself, she reads me. She clears her throat and looks around at the group. “Hey guys, we’d better get going. I don’t want to be late ever, but certainly not on my first day.” Her eyes return to me. I thank her wordlessly and she gives a slight nod. We turn and begin walking down the corridor.
The narrow tunnel extends for what seems like forever. We stop at the cafeteria. Without tables and people filling it, the space looks even starker. Ashy light and stone walls of dull gray lend it an austere, cavernous feel. I try to focus on the meager food set out for us, not liking the strange sinking feeling it evokes in the pit of my stomach. We grab a bread-like substance shaped like a circular tube and leave quickly. I focus on the back of Sarah’s form in front of me on the way out. The sight does little to improve matters.
Thick, dark hair falls to the small of her back and swings like a pendulum as she walks beside Will, her body so close, not even the thinnest ribbon of light passes between their bodies. She and Will lead the way and Tom and Jericho pick up the rear. I am beside June, who links the crook of her elbow with mine and gives my forearm a gentle squeeze. I’m grateful for her gesture, for her presence, always. Without her, I’m confident I would’ve erupted.
The Underground City (Book 3): Planet Urth, no. 3 Page 15