by P. S. Lurie
The image of swimming was never gone. Didn’t I just tell myself that I reclaimed part of my memories, as if it was a triumph I hadn’t been completely wiped clean?
“I don’t understand,” I say, but I think I just might, and what I’m realising horrifies me.
“You wanted this. You asked us to help you forget.”
Ruskin
The elevator descends as Marcus pushes a hand against his wound. “Damn.”
I should be grateful the bullet hit him and none of the rest of us because he should mean the least to me than anyone else in here. If anything, I’d choose it to be him that was shot but Jack would hate that I even entertain this thought. As if my conscience needs more of a slap, Jack says, “Help him, Rus.”
I hit the stop button on the elevator as I pull my shirt off and get Erica to push it against the wound to stop the flow. I don’t know if the bullet damaged any of his organs but we need to get him help, more than any intervention Jack would need but since I’m looking for medical supplies it’s more incentive to keep moving.
“Thanks kid. Can we get a move on? I don’t want to bleed out in an elevator.” He reaches for the button to restart the motors but he can barely lift his arm.
Jack lowers himself to the floor. “I’m ok, just a little dizzy.”
I don’t know if his situation is worse than that but there’s nothing I can do in here so I restart the elevator, which is still heading for the ground level. I hover my finger over the button with the arrows facing one another as the doors open on their own. I see two glass doors to the outside. No one else seems to be around; I figure they’ll not want to expose themselves until it’s time to leave because others will be planning the same. It means the fight is likely to keep going into the Upperlands as people race for the Utopia. I hurry the elevator to descend to B level, which finally opens up onto the bottom of the stairwell. In front of us are two doors, gently flapping on loose hinges.
If anyone is in here we’re dead but there’s no other option; if I had more time I’d put the others in a room and tell them to lock themselves in with the bar and then come here myself. But we’re here now.
Somehow Jack finds the strength to pick himself up and follows as Erica and I drag Marcus through the door. We rush in, which looks more like us stumbling on top of one another.
My heart sinks when I see not only dead people splayed around the room but living people, already set up camp, and I know we’re doomed. Clutching onto hope, I count: four women. We were so close and there’s no way we can fight them. Maybe we can plead our case.
Then my eyes rest on one of the women. A girl, my age.
“Theia?”
Theia
Four people burst through, all of them looking like death, amazing that they are still alive considering that one of them is being dragged through and another can barely stand. So far we’ve avoided other groups and there’s no way they have the strength to fight us so we might have a chance to make it through this encounter. Maybe they don’t even want to fight. I see Mad tense up from the corner of my eye, ready to fight when I realise that we can’t kill these people. For one, there’s a girl, who can’t be much older than Ronan’s age. I can’t fight her, or the man bleeding out. Attacking injured people doesn’t seem right. And then there’s the main boy, holding a bar, topless for some reason, who seems to be leading them and I look at his face and...
“Theia,” he says.
“Oh my god. Ruskin.”
I run towards him. “Don’t hurt them,” I say, but only Mad has launched into action and has to stop. I grab the injured man, who seems to be bleeding at a rapid pace, and Selma makes space so that we can position him onto one of the sofas. Ruskin has helped the other boy onto the kitchen counter despite the boy’s protests that he’s alright.
“Hey,” Mad says, as she throws a top to Ruskin, taken from one of the corpses, reminding me of when I stripped Jason of his uniform and then dressed him in Mr Ether’s shirt and trousers, both brothers going out of their way to help others.
“Thanks.” As he looks over to the man on the sofa, he says to me, “I gave him mine to stop the blood.” Ruskin places his weapon onto the counter, slips the shirt over his head, and I realise that what’s happening in the prison should be sending me hurtling back to the cull last year but I’m not zoning out at all, which is finally something to be grateful for. As is this reunion.
Melissa goes from being suspicious of the new arrivals to helping the shot man. She recruits Selma, and then I see Mad has moved over to the young girl; I catch her eye and give her a look that says “Don’t even think about it.”
I get a wet cloth and mop the boy’s head. “Are you ok Ruskin?”
He sighs, as if he’s held his breath for the last hour, as if he can’t quite believe we’re all here and not dead. A noise makes me jump but it is only Mad pushing a sofa in front of the doors so that no one can sneak up on us. “Yeah. There’s a guy with a gun though and who knows how many others still alive. Theia, what are you doing here?”
“I was arrested shortly after you.”
“Because of helping me at that place?”
“No.” It’s too complicated right now. “But we were trying to find you. Who’s this?”
“Jack. We were in prison together for a year.”
“Hi,” the boy says.
“Theia,” Ruskin says, introducing me. “Henry’s best friend.”
Jack nods, clearly having heard our names before.
“Is he alright?” Ruskin asks Melissa on her arrival, saving me from having to tell Ruskin that Henry died a long time ago.
“His lung has collapsed and he’s bleeding out and finding it hard to breathe. I need to get him to a hospital.” She checks her watch but there’s just over an hour before we can even get out of here.
“Can you keep him stable until then?”
“Selma’s on it but we can’t move him until it’s time to go.”
Ruskin looks over. “That name. I saw her at the announcement with you.” Then he realises who she is. “Selene’s mother?”
I nod.
Melissa inspects Jack. “Where does it hurt?”
Jack reaches out and takes Ruskin’s hand. “I’m fine. Honestly. The other guy was shot. I just need to rest. Just a bit bruised.”
“Who’s the girl, Ruskin?”
“She found me. Someone’s trying to kill her in here. Long story.”
There are lots of long stories in here but no time to tell them.
“Everyone’s trying to kill everyone,” Mad says, having entered the conversation along with the girl who hasn’t left her side since they met.
“I’m Erica.”
“Maddie, if we’re doing introductions.” She takes in Ruskin. “Mad, if I decide I like you.”
“Cool name,” Jack says.
“Mad, can you look at blocking the doors any better?” I ask her, more to distract her from any unhelpful contributions.
“Sure thing boss. Want to help me, Erica?” They go off to secure the way in.
“Ruskin. I’m sorry about your parents. And Jason.” I immediately regret saying it. Maybe he didn’t even know.
“You know Jason died?”
“I guessed,” I lie. I will tell Ruskin later what happened. The only other people here to know the truth are Melissa and Selma and they’re distracted. For now, it’s enough that I’ve found him. Part one of what Jason asked me to do.
I look around the room and count how many of us there are. Eight, some of us more injured than others, all of us shell-shocked without any time to make sense of what’s happened, some I’m not sure whether it’s safe to be around. Ruskin, Melissa and Selma, I trust. But there’s Erica, Mad, Jack and the bleeding man. I didn’t know half of the people before today and it would take time that we don’t have to figure out just how we all came to be here, and where loyalties lie but for now it’s enough that, apart from Harriet, everyone I wanted to reunite in the prison is t
ogether. Now there’s just keeping us all alive and then finding my siblings and Selene to accomplish. And boarding the Utopia.
“You ok Jack?”
The boy that means a lot to Ruskin sits up and hugs him. It’s a tight embrace and I have a feeling it’s more than just having been cellmates for so long. Only then do I work through the events this morning from Ruskin’s point of view: he must have been taken out of the prison, away from Jack, and then found him on his return. “Wait, Ruskin. Did you get yourself arrested on purpose at the arena?”
Jack manages to open his eyes in wonder, lean towards Ruskin and stare. “You did that for me?”
“Of course I came back for you.” They kiss.
“Save the celebrations for later,” Mad says. “I’ve tied the doors as best I can but anyone with the will could get in here.” She looks across the room at the man on the sofa. “Or a gun.”
“Come on,” I say and we all move to the living quarters. Jack helps Ruskin and Erica doesn’t keep much distance from Mad, which is an interesting choice in attachment figure. “Hi all. Marcus,” the man says woozily.
“He’ll be fine,” Melissa says, but I know her tone. It’s the same thing she said to reassure me about Leda for the past few weeks, when the truth was my sister was going to die without treatment. I wonder where Leda is now and whether Doctor Jefferson even gave her the vaccine.
“Total disclosure,” Marcus says. “I tried to kill Jack. I figure you’ll find that out sooner or later so you might as well decide what you want to do with me now.”
“Ruskin?” I say to my friend.
“Actually, he tried to kill me first. But he’s helped us since then.”
“I think him getting shot makes us equal,” Jack says, already sounding more coherent.
“Not just shot. I’m dying here, kid.”
“We could always let the two injured guys fight,” Mad says excitedly. “We could keep the winner around but both will slow us down. Let’s vote for a fight.”
“No,” I say, forcefully, and command everyone’s attention. Others in the prison have their stories, their haunting shadows, and their right to try to survive. But so do the eight of us. The turning point has come for me to make a stand. I’ve battled with our right to live over others and the truth is we have no right to die or live any more than anyone else here.
I take in all of their faces, one by one. A crew of injured, scared people. “Harriet, our friend was killed not even an hour ago and who knows how many other innocent lives have been lost. We’ve been given no choice but to trust one another now. If you don’t like it then leave.
“People are trying to kill us and we’ve been forced to retaliate. At some point the fight will come to us and now we have to make a stand. Hate it or not, surviving no longer means letting just anyone live over us, however innocent they may be. We’ve risked too much to turn on one another or give up now, and we’ve fought too hard to let others stand in our way. So we fight anyone who wants us dead. It’s our lives or theirs.”
As speeches go it’s not the most rousing but it’s enough to convince them of what we need to do to survive: kill or be killed, only this time it’s on a bigger scale.
2 P.M. – 3 P.M.
Selene
I pace the hallway outside Nathaniel’s apartment, unable to think in the presence of Doctor Graft, as a million fleeting thoughts shoot through my head, unable to fixate on any one and make sense of what he said.
I wanted this? I asked to forget?
I hated my mother; that was true. Considering that she tormented me and made my home unsafe for my entire life it is right that I feel hatred towards her. Feel or felt, do I still hate her? I try to work out what I felt when I saw her at the arena but it was pure shock. I let her live during the cull and I assume that wasn’t out of hatred because I could’ve entered my house and killed her. I thought I was done with our relationship, but then that woman found me and I saw my mother... and I wanted to be reunited with her.
Would I have chosen during the past year to wipe my mind clear of her and live a new life, far from thoughts of the Middlelanders’ struggles, no longer seeing myself as one of them?
Would I have allowed myself to be given to Nathaniel after what he did during the night of the cull? Would have I been able to fall in love with someone like that?
I can’t think clearly enough to formulate an explanation.
I want to claw into my head and force the thoughts out, to scratch away at the distress until I forget once more, but what good would that do other than turn me back into the zombie that I have been? It would be the simplest to give myself up to Nathaniel and become the shell of the person I was via more medication but I need to know if I forgot the first time by choice or force. Was I being strong in remembering the sea, or was I being weak by only holding onto that one memory and pushing the rest away?
I decide that Nathaniel and his father did this to me against my will because otherwise I not only gave up on the Middlelanders but I gave up on myself too. I had to have been a victim for a year.
No more.
Now that I have Doctor Graft’s identification watch, I can move around freely and I need to get to the prison to rescue my mother and Theia. I wrestle with the watch until it slides over my narrower hand and hold it up in front of the elevator panel.
“Doctor Rufus Penn, Status: approved,” the automated voice says as the elevator travels to my floor. Doctor Penn. A different name. So he was a doctor but also Nathaniel’s father after all; I guess we have all had our false identities, chosen or not.
I step in and push the button to the exit. Why would Nathaniel do this to me? Why would he give up a life of true love to be with someone that he coerced into a relationship? Why didn’t he take me to the prison that night?
Somewhere between what Doctor Penn told me and what I need to believe happened is the truth.
Back at the lobby, Nathaniel is not in view, neither outside nor inside the building, but he will still be nearby; even if he gives up on me surely he’ll want to help his father onto the Utopia and he’s running out of time. I turn to leave through the other exit, past the bins, to head to the prison and leave Nathaniel and this wicked year behind me, but I stop.
I need to know.
I walk to the main doors and use the watch to unlock them.
I step out into the empty street, deserted for the ark that should have been built for Henry and me, instead I’m aware that at this moment the rest of the population will be settling themselves into their new homes, and that had I played along I could’ve been on the way to my wedding ceremony. One year ago I walked the streets wanting to avoid anyone on patrol but now I want to draw attention to myself. I spot the man in the police uniform, my groom-not-to-be, his back to me, at the corner of the building.
“Nathaniel.” I shout loud enough to get him to spin around, and with a harsh enough tone for him to know that I’m the Selene I once was and that I demand a show-down.
Ruskin
“Thanks for the pep talk kid,” Marcus says after Theia’s speech, and then groans with a painful breathlessness, having depleted his oxygen capacity by at least half. Theia ignores him but Melissa coats his wound with another sheet, which begins to seep with blood almost instantly.
“Why don’t you pass out already?” Mad asks, fed up with his sarcasm, and starts to wander off.
“Give him a break,” Melissa says.
“Yeah, listen to the good doctor,” Marcus replies.
“Enough,” I say. “There’s too much antagonism and Theia was right; we can’t avoid the battle that is coming, whether we like it or not. We need to prepare for anyone finding us because it’s not a matter of if but when. And then we need to focus on preparing ourselves for leaving because others will be heading to the Utopia and we can’t be left behind. If the fight doesn’t come for us immediately we will have to go to the fight. So let’s make ourselves useful for the next hour.”
“Such a
stud,” Jack says, and he raises his eyebrows up and down at me.
Mad fetches plates from the kitchen. “Food. Or whatever you want to call it.”
“I’m not hungry,” Selma says.
“No, Mad’s right. This didn’t just keep us alive but there’s something in it. It stopped us from wasting away for a year, even with minimal exercise and sunlight.”
Mad shares out the plates and some of the others nibble away, even though their appetites are lacking, with the newer prisoners grimacing at the taste.
“It’s acquired,” Jack says to Selma.
“Thanks for the support,” I say to Mad. “So you were in here a while?”
“Eight months.”
“One year.”
“Snap,” Marcus says. “Was just me and him. Came here during the cull.”
“Us too,” Jack replies. “You had a brother about eighteen?”
“Kid, I’m older than I look. I had a son. They sent him back to the Middlelands to fight or whatever. He never returned. I ended up here so I figure he’s dead.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Four months,” Erica says, swallowing a mouthful.
Melissa struggles more with the taste and glutinous texture, whereas the rest of us have gotten used to it. Theia and Selma have walked off and are searching through drawers, looking for, I guess, anything that can be a makeshift weapon.
“What do you make of our home, doctor?” Marcus asks, taking a deep, struggled breath.
“Thrilled. I get seasick so the Utopia was overrated anyway. Bleeding has slowed and I think you’ll survive if we can sort your lung out but first we need to get the bullet out of you. I’m not a doctor but that’s critical from what I understand. There’s a hospital on the Utopia. I say we bypass the one I worked at and go straight there. If the Upperlanders were telling the truth then they’ll treat you onboard.”
“Sure thing doc.”