The Surge Trilogy (Book 2): We, The Grateful Few

by P. S. Lurie

  Maddie looks disgusted. “I was forced to clean for a family in the Upperlands and the woman kept asking me if I was grateful to be here. I lost my mind and told her the truth. How could I be grateful after what they forced us to do? The police arrived within the hour and took me to prison. Deemed ungrateful.”

  I think about my relationship with Kate; only this morning did I have to pretend I was loyal to the Upperlands through gritted teeth because that’s what it took for survival. All because I couldn’t let down Ronan and Leda. But what if I was on my own? There’s so little that separates Maddie’s story from mine and it could have easily been me in here. What the guards did was malicious beyond my wildest imagination. Forcing her to kill over and over, it’s a wonder she didn’t lose her mind completely. I remember when Harriet and I first met her. Of course Maddie played tough because there were two of us; how was she to know we didn’t want to kill her? Then we left the cell and... that’s it. “You’re a hero.”

  I catch her off-guard. “What?”

  “When you attacked that man outside Selma and Melissa’s cell.”

  “I was trying to kill him.”

  “To save us. You saved our lives.”

  “I didn’t save Erica’s life.”

  “None of us did. But you tried. You’re a hero for saving my life. And your own.”

  “Do me a favour, Theia.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Stop, or I’ll cry.” She gives a spluttered laugh. “When this is all over, and I mean all over, you can tell me I’m a hero then.”

  “Deal.” I pat her on the back before I join the others to give her a moment with Erica, but I think about what she said: “When this is all over.” I know exactly what she means by that. Not just the prison or the bombs. This won’t be over until everyone responsible has paid.

  Ruskin

  “It’s superficial,” Jack says. “But I can kiss it better.”

  “You’re sweet.”

  “Just returning the favour. Can we talk?”

  “Sure.”

  We leave Selma and Melissa, covering Marcus’ body up with the blanket that was hanging over the sofa, as Theia approaches, I guess leaving Mad to grieve Erica.

  “You two ok?” she asks.

  “Yeah. Just going to find something for my wound.”

  In the kitchen, away from everyone, I turn to him. “What’s up?”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been so naive,” Jack says sheepishly.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We avoided violence for so long, away from the cull, cocooned in prison. I figured we could keep hiding and we wouldn’t have to stoop to their level.”

  “We shouldn’t have had to.”

  “No, I think sadly that’s wrong. If we’d all fought a long time ago, none of this would have had to happen. I just...”

  “It’s ok Jack.”

  “No, I... thank you. You came back for me, and you risked your life and fought people to find me. I love you Ruskin.”

  I kiss him. “Nothing to apologise for. I love you too. And you know what else? It might be naive but before this day is over, wherever we are, I may actually be able to get you a cake with candles.”

  Jack laughs. “And the rowboat on a lake?”

  “Let’s start with the cake and see what we can do.”

  “Sure thing.” Jack looks at the others. “I’m sorry about Henry.”

  “You know?”

  “When you and Theia were talking about Jason and what happened that night. There was a moment where she seemed more upset than you.”

  “Yeah. I can’t believe she was there when my brother died.”

  “I know.”

  “She feels guilty.”

  Jack leans into my face. “She’s got enough to contend with. I hope you told her it wasn’t her fault, whatever happened that night.”

  I don’t say anything because I didn’t, not completely. If Theia hadn’t been messing around in neighbours’ houses then my brother may still be alive.

  “Ruskin,” he says sternly.

  Though I wouldn’t have met Jack, I remember. We all did things that we regret but forgot it wasn’t our fault in the first place. “Of course I’ll tell her.”

  “Boys,” Mad calls over, having rejoined the others. “Time to pick your weapons.”

  “You’re going to be alright to move?” I ask Jack.

  “Yes. You?”

  “Stay by my side.”

  “I hope that wasn’t goodbyes,” Mad says, when we walk over to the other four. I pick up my bar that has served me well up to now.

  “No,” I say, and check my watch. It’s almost time. “When we go, we run. We don’t stop until we get to the Fence. Apart from you and Jack, the rest of us were there this morning so we know the route. If we go straight we should make it in twenty minutes.”

  “And anyone else?”

  Jack crouches down, inspects the stockpile and chooses a particularly nasty-looking piece of a broken mirror, which says enough.

  3 P.M. – 4 P.M.

  Selene

  The knack to handling the bike comes to me quickly and, had this been for any other reason, the drive could be enjoyable. I remember hearing about foreign places along open highways and the road trips to get there whilst growing up in the Middlelands but we were deprived of the chance to learn how freeing it could be to speed along. I never imagined at any point up until now that I’d be speeding down paved streets, past futuristic architecture, on a motorbike. And to top it all off, I’m in a wedding dress. If anyone was around they would likely be as incredulous as me at the sight of it.

  Once I learn to sway my body into the turns, rather than against them, the manoeuvring becomes easier. Like a spool of film on repeat, everything looks the same as I drive by and nothing that I pass is more or less familiar, but I continue to take in the buildings and signs and hope something jogs my memory. All I continuously fathom is how large the Upperlands is. Unlike the Middlelands with houses and a market and not much else occupying the land between the Fence and the ever-nearing sea, the boulevards are wide and I pass at least three shopping malls, including the one Nathaniel took me to. I keep the Utopia far to my left as I pass under the raised train line.

  I glance at Doctor Penn’s watch. It’s just turned three o’clock, which means if my mother is still alive she will be leaving the prison behind any minute now. It also means the Utopia is locked, so unless Nathaniel went straight there or has some privileges as a policeman then he’s got as much chance as the rest of us; because of him, we have both become contestants in the game the prisoners have partaken in for the past few hours.

  I look in the wing mirror but no one else is behind me. Does Nathaniel care that much about me to pretend to be one of the successful prisoners who outlived everyone? It’s what I’ll to have to aim for, with or without my mother, if I want to survive the impending flood.

  I decide Nathaniel will have special privileges and be given a delayed boarding as a policeman. There must be plenty of entranceways, and maybe one will be kept open for anyone patrolling the Upperlands. Since the Fence isn’t being blown up for two hours, it may be that the deadline to board was just to rush people and actually there’ll be more leniency; despite the boat’s size it can’t take two hours to secure all of the entrances onto it.

  Either way, I have to hurry. I have no idea how close I am or what danger I’m heading towards.

  I twist the handlebar towards me and the motorbike accelerates.

  Theia

  The six of us hold off on leaving, tense with anticipation but no one makes a sound, and I stare as the digital numbers on the watch take an eternity to turn from the hour to one minute past and then, thinking the watch must be faulty because it’s surely been at least ten minutes now, two minutes past eventually flashes up. I listen to any hints about what’s going on above us but there’s nothing. That doesn’t mean to say we have a clear run; I’m of the impression that we should
plan for the worst because that’s what we’ve been handed each time a new change of fate comes our way.

  “Maybe everyone else is dead apart the gunman and he’s gone,” Melissa says.

  “He’s not going to give up on us that easily,” Maddie says. “He’s in no hurry to board if there’s no competition except him.”

  “But there are ten spaces,” Ruskin says.

  “What does he care, considering he chose to be here,” Melissa replies. “Maybe he doesn’t know about us?”

  “He knows Ruskin and I exist,” Jack says. “He shot at us.”

  “Three minutes,” Selma says. “Let’s go. Let him try. Everyone else can wait it out but we should be the first ones onboard.”

  “Ok,” I say, resigned to not being able to put it off any longer, alternating between staying and leaving in rapid succession. I grab the plank of wood that one of the men brought with him to fight us; it’s not going to stop a bullet but at least it’s something to defend myself with if anyone else comes for us. Or attack with, I think as I remind myself of my new, vengeful attitude to surviving. “Follow me.”

  I courageously or stupidly take the lead and push the door open, before creeping onto the base of the stairwell, with the other five in single file behind me. I check above, at the entire dizzying way to the summit of the prison, and then scout the floors directly above us, but there’s no movement. My thought turns to the man I locked inside the cell and how he must be aware of the time and his impossibility to outlive this day.

  We carry on up one floor and I look through the door into the atrium towards the exit. I don’t know why it’s necessary but suddenly I congratulate myself on making it to here, although right now it seems irrelevant considering we could still be killed at any point. Maybe I’m giving myself renewed courage, or maybe I’m aware that nothing has been as dangerous as right now.

  I feel a hand slip into my palm and for a minute I think it’s Ronan, digging his nail in, and we’re back on the van. I won’t let him be taken from me this time. But I look behind me and it’s Maddie, giving me a burst of encouragement. I smile at her, grateful that she’s here with me.

  Just a little bit more to go and then I need to work on boarding the Utopia and rescuing Leda. I’ve assumed that Ronan will be taken onto the ship because whatever the Upperlanders did with him and our other children they’re unlikely to leave them behind now. If anything, it will be a smaller world in which to find Ronan. I regret not holding off and trying to sneak my sister onboard but how was I to know that this would be the day the Utopia would set sail? I have been given a new set of circumstances, another chance in which to find my siblings. That’s if we’re some of the first ten to arrive and we’re allowed onboard.

  I enter the atrium. More dead bodies as expected but there doesn’t seem to be anyone standing between us and escape. If President Callister told the truth, the exit should be unlocked.

  “Look,” Selma whispers, as she points to one of the see-through doors to the outside, both of which are unaligned with the frame. I look through it into the courtyard that leads to the Upperlands and see a single person, a much older man than anyone I have seen yet in here, sprinting away from the prison. His clothes are much cleaner than ours, and it seems as if his choice to hide from the action for the past few hours worked out in his favour.

  “Damn,” Maddie says, seeing him too.

  A gunshot echoes across the yard and causes me to jump. I’ll never be used to firearms going off. At the same time, the man takes the impact, jerks to the side and falls over. He doesn’t get up. I should be back in the garden, watching my mother gunned down, but I am still here. I check out the courtyard that we entered through earlier today but can’t see anyone. The gunman must be hiding, with a clear vantage point.

  “Maybe he’s standing at a window above us, looking over the courtyard,” Melissa says.

  “No,” Selma replies. “The man was shot from the side.”

  “There,” Jack says, seeing the gunman behind a tree off to the side. “That’s the guy who shot Marcus.”

  “One gunman’s better than two,” Maddie says.

  The man spots us too and waves, almost beckoning us to come forward. He throws up a hand in disregard of his victim, as if he’s saying, “What can you do?” and waves us forward again.

  Ruskin walks to the door but doesn’t step through.

  “Stop,” Jack says, in despair.

  “We’re safe,” Ruskin says. “Look at the bullet imprints. Whether the guy wanted to leave or not before the deadline he couldn’t shoot his way out. He can’t shoot us through the glass.”

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t test it out,” Melissa says.

  Jack and Maddie join Ruskin but Melissa, Selma and I hold back.

  “Do you think anyone beat him out there?” Selma asks me.

  There’s only one body on the ground outside the prison, between the shooter and us, but that doesn’t prove anything. I can see the open gate at the end of the courtyard that we entered through, but I can’t see any landmarks behind it except the Fence in the far distance. It took some time from the Fence to here, but that was on the train and I don’t know how long I spaced out for.

  My thought process is broken by the sound of footprints rushing down the stairs from behind us and Melissa, who is the farthest back, turns and sticks her knife outwards, which plunges into a woman’s chest. She’s alone, unarmed, caught off-guard by our being here, likely having hidden just as with the man who was shot in front of us. No, looking at her battle scars, she has seen her fair share of violence today.

  She looks horrified and her eyes widen as the knife takes full effect, but her horror is not at what just happened to her, but whom she locks eyes with: someone she closely resembles, not just in appearance but mannerisms that tell me she’s related to someone in our group, in the same way Selma and Selene are obviously parent and child. “Jack?” she croaks.

  Ruskin

  “Mum!” Jack rushes forward, forgetting the shooter is outside and could come in and kill us any time he wants to, focusing all his attention on his stabbed mother, but it’s clear it’s too late to do anything as he shakes her limp body. All I can think of is that I was told she was dead.

  I’m so stupid. Why would I so easily believe anything the Upperlanders said to me? I’m frozen to the spot, watching on, stuck in a perpetuating cycle of culpability in my mind, because Melissa might have stabbed the woman but it is me that stopped Jack from searching for her. How different the outcome should have been.

  “Oh my god,” Melissa mouths, frozen to the spot; even if she could react I doubt it would help but she’s the only one with medical training. Then I speak up.

  “Help her,” I say, nudging Melissa out of her shock. I feel more and more guilt course through me, considering that this is not Melissa’s doing but mine, waiting for Jack to work it out as well. For him to tell me I’ve failed him.

  Melissa drops onto her knees by the woman’s side, pushes her chest and breathes into her mouth rhythmically but nothing revives her. Jack crouches on the other side.

  “Mum?” he asks but there’s no reply. She doesn’t have any final words, and died with only the knowledge that her son had survived to this point. I hope she was comforted by that. As for Jack, nothing will comfort him. And then he says what I dreaded to hear.

  “You told me she was dead.” Jack looks up at me, emphasising each word.

  “That’s what they said. When I was brought back here, the guards said she had died. I’m...”

  “Don’t you dare say it.”

  “More games,” Theia says. “This is what they wanted. We can’t turn on one another now.”

  “I’m sorry,” Melissa says and takes Jack’s hand, but he doesn’t respond well. Instead he walks off to be by himself. Then he punches a wall.

  “They were never going to let us out of here without ruining our lives,” Selma says to no one in particular. “But I need to go. I have to fin
d Selene.”

  I join Jack who is nursing his knuckles. “I’m so sorry.”

  Jack ignores me.

  “Jack?”

  “Don’t,” he snarls.

  “Come on,” Theia says to him and guides him back to the glass doors, taking a wide sweep of his mother, before embracing him. Jack tries to break free but gives in as he sobs. “I’m sorry. Jack, I’m so sorry.”

  All I can do is watch on and be grateful that he has stopped thrashing and has allowed Theia to hold him. I’m grateful that Theia’s offered herself up to be used as a punch bag. Theia, Melissa, Mad, Jack and I have all lost our parents to the Upperlanders. I can’t let Selene. We need to go, but we’re trapped.

  The gunman has watched the entirety of this scene play out, amused but seems to have grown impatient, stepping out from behind the tree. Fortunately for us, no one else has appeared from within the prison. It doesn’t help that we’re still trapped.

  Jack wipes a tear and, as if reading my mind, speaks up. “Selma’s right. We need to go. Someone deserves to be reunited with their family.”

  “It’s my fault,” Melissa says. “I’ll go out there and run. Then you all head the other way. Hopefully he’ll be distracted.”

  “Didn’t think you had it in you,” Mad says.

  “Maddie, don’t encourage her. Melissa, that’s a crazy plan. There’s no way we can outrun a bullet.” Theia’s right. Also, she called her friend Maddie instead of Mad. I don’t know what happened there but something changed between them. Maybe Erica’s death softened the girl.

  “I don’t deserve to come with you.”

  “How were you to know?” Jack says, finding every morsel of compassion in him, much quicker than I could do for Theia when she told me about Jason and, moreover, not offering much in the way of sympathy towards her when she also told me about Henry.

  “You don’t understand. It’s not just your mother. I killed Marcus. He was dying and would’ve just slowed us down. In the fracas, I killed him to save us.”