by Jordan Rivet
The woman began snoring like a walrus. Esther crept back and eased her hand into the pocket of Whitefern’s robes. Her fingers rattled a bottle of pills. She held her breath, but Whitefern didn’t move. She slid the pills out of the pocket and set them on the floor so they wouldn’t make more noise. Then she reached back into the woman’s robes and found a bundle of keys. She pulled them out and tiptoed to the door.
The third key she tried fit the lock. With a final glance back at Whitefern’s sleeping figure, Esther crept out of the room.
The pitch-dark corridor greeted her. There were often people walking the halls during the day, but it was quiet now. As far as Esther knew, there were only one or two other patients in the infirmary right now. She’d seen a young man hobbling to the bathroom, his ankle in a cast, and she’d heard Whitefern talking in gruesome detail about another patient’s severe hives with a Shepherd called Thistlebloom.
Esther tiptoed down the hallway to the elevator. As long as she didn’t run into the Dentist again, she would use the “lost and disoriented” excuse with any guards she encountered. If she met the Dentist, it was probably a sign that her luck had finally run out.
The elevator car was waiting for her when she hit the button. Esther clenched her fists as the doors closed behind her. She descended to the Detention Level.
The doors slid open. She couldn’t see anyone in the beam of light from the elevator. The Detention Level was quiet and dark, like the upper corridor. Esther stepped into the square of light spilling out of the elevator, barely breathing.
It was silent. Still. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears.
Then the elevator doors closed, making Esther jump. The darkness was complete.
Esther stayed where she was, clenching and unclenching her fists. She listened for any hint of movement.
“Who’s there?” said a voice in the darkness. A woman’s voice.
“Don’t be afraid,” Esther said, taking a few tentative steps toward the speaker. “What’s your name?”
“Naomi. Who are you?”
“Are you Naomi Harris? Originally from San Diego?” Esther walked closer. She reached out blindly and felt the cold bars of the cage. “Your birthday is July 27.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know you,” Esther said, her words catching in her throat. “My name is Esther Harris. I . . . I’m pretty sure you’re my sister.”
There was a long silence. A deep breath.
“I don’t have a sister.”
“I know it sounds crazy,” Esther said, her throat constricting, “but we escaped, Naomi. Dad too. We were on the boardwalk in San Diego, and we got away on a ship. We’ve been living at sea ever since the disaster. We thought you were dead until a few weeks ago. We came to get you.”
“You don’t understand. I really don’t have a sister. Never have. And I’ve never met my father. He left my mom before I was born. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
Esther felt like the earth had suddenly stopped spinning. It couldn’t be. The coincidences were too unlikely.
“But . . . you were born on July 27. And you escaped from San Diego! And your name . . .”
“I think Harris is a pretty common name,” Naomi said. Then she was speaking quickly, the words tripping over each other like ripples. “I didn’t escape from San Diego. I lived there, but my mom and I were visiting my grandmother in Texas when the volcano blew. We fled south when all hell broke loose and lived on our own until we met the Dentist on his way down here to the Lake. I don’t know you.”
Esther felt like she’d been struck dumb. She had been so sure that this was the same Naomi Harris. It had to be her. She had seen her with her own eyes.
The darkness was oppressive, like a thunderhead. The bars of the cage warmed in Esther’s grip.
“Look—Esther, right?—I’ve never heard of anyone who escaped from San Diego. The ash fall was too thick there.”
Something touched Esther’s hand. Naomi had reached out to her through the shadows, taking her hand.
“I’m really sorry, Esther, but you’d better go. You don’t want to get caught.”
Esther felt a cyclone spinning in her head. She had seen her. Yes, she had been feverish, but she had recognized her!
“I don’t believe you,” Esther said. “You are my sister. I don’t know if someone’s making you lie or if you’re messed up because of everything you’ve been through . . .” Esther’s voice faltered. She remembered the skeletons stumbling out of the church, moaning about how starvation would reveal the truth. She tightened her grip on the hand in the darkness. “I’m getting you out.”
“Esther,” Naomi whispered, “you have to go.”
“No. Dad and I will take you away from here. It’ll be okay.”
“I won’t go with you,” Naomi said firmly. “Don’t try, Esther. This is my home, and I’ll accept the punishment for my actions. I follow the Dentist. I don’t have a sister.”
“We’re working on a plan. Just hang tight for a little while longer,” Esther said. Doubt crept in, insidious like a hidden leak in a ship’s hull. Had she been so wrong? She had turned everyone away from the original mission. The team had split, maybe forever. Her father was here, in danger, when he should be safe on the Catalina. And for what?
No, Naomi was traumatized. She needed help.
“Be ready when we come for you.” Esther squeezed Naomi’s hand one more time and headed back to the elevator. Before she hit the button, she stopped. “Will they execute you?”
Naomi made a sound, something between a sigh and a sob. “I betrayed the Dentist. The Code is clear. I have to die.”
“No, you don’t,” Esther said. “We’re getting you out.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Naomi whispered. “Please, Esther. Don’t put yourself in danger. You have to go.”
Esther peered through the bars of the cage. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough that she could see the faint outline of the woman’s head. She turned sideways, and Esther was sure she saw her mother’s nose.
“Just hold on for a few more days,” she said.
Esther snuck back to her room without encountering anyone. She returned Whitefern’s keys and then lay back on the lumpy pillow, feeling empty. It was stupid to think Naomi could have survived San Diego. She had endangered the entire crew, chasing after an impossible dream. She had risked everything. She had let hope blind her to reality.
And yet she couldn’t believe Naomi was telling the truth. No matter what she said it had to be her. And she was going to be killed unless Esther did something about it. She may have said she wouldn’t come with them, but Esther couldn’t accept that. She would drag Naomi out of this prison kicking and screaming if that’s what it took.
Chapter 27—Weeds
IN THE MORNING, WHITEFERN told Esther she would be released from the Bunker after lunch. She could return to the dormitory, but only under strict instructions not to exert herself. Whitefern gave Esther back her own clothes, which had been freshly laundered, her tool belt, and her boots. Esther felt around inside the right boot. The knife she had hidden there was gone. Whitefern met her eyes sedately, as if daring her to ask about it.
Whitefern bustled her out of the Bunker after a hearty lunch of chicken soup. Esther got her first look at the building’s exterior. It was a long bungalow made of concrete, with most of the levels underground. High, narrow windows were spaced at regular intervals around the structure. A name had been painted on the wall long ago, many of the letters now faded beyond recognition. Esther could make out only one word: “hydroelectric.” The building must have belonged to whoever once operated the dam, but whether it had been living quarters or some sort of facility she couldn’t say.
The building was located in an isolated clearing surrounded by a dense thicket of trees and scrubs. A single dirt road led away from it. A vehicle waited for her at the head of the road. Bole was the driver, and in the front seat Esther saw—
“
Cally! When did you get here?”
“This morning!” Cally leapt out of the front seat to give her a big hug. She had flowers twisted into her hair. “It was a serious hike up from the river. My first hike ever! They told us you were being released today, and Bole said it would be okay for me to come along in the jeep. My first jeep ride ever!”
“Just don’t mention it around the Dentist and you’re good to go,” Bole said, grinning at Esther.
“So this is the jeep?” Esther asked. The car—painted in camouflage colors matching Bole’s clothes—was open to the air, with a cracked windshield and a roll bar over the top of the seats.
“Yeah, she’s held up well all things considered,” Bole said. “We try not to drive too much to conserve fuel. That stuff’s hard to find. Hop in.”
Esther climbed into the backseat, and Cally returned to her place in the front. There was no seat belt, so Esther gripped Cally’s seat as Bole fired up the engine. She must have been brought to the Bunker in a car in the midst of her fever, but otherwise this was the first time she had ridden in one in sixteen years.
The jeep bounced away from the Bunker along the dirt road. It felt strange to ride in a car again, almost surreal. It was another thing reminding Esther that she was out of her depth. She’d had a hard time untangling everything she’d been feeling since she walked into the Detention Level and Naomi denied knowing her. She had to focus on what she could control: her plans for what to do next.
“How are things on the Lucinda?” Esther asked as the jeep bumped against every rock and dip.
“They’re fine,” Cally said. “We left a few people behind to keep watch. There are ten of us in the town now, counting you. Zoe was super upset that she couldn’t come over, but she has to stay on the comms.”
The jungle flew past them, and Esther watched for milestones so she’d be able to find her way back to the Bunker. They passed two other paths disappearing off into the trees, but as far as she could tell, the Bunker was the end of the line. It shouldn’t be too hard to get back.
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
“We’re helping with the farm this afternoon,” Cally said.
“The Dentist says you’ve gotta earn your keep now that you’re feeling better,” Bole said.
They broke through the trees and reentered the town. They passed the chicken coop, where Yvonne waved enthusiastically at them. It was a bright day, and lots of people were out and about.
“Everything is so amazing here,” Cally said. “Isn’t walking on dirt and rocks strange, Esther?”
“I guess . . .”
“I keep feeling like I’ll trip. I saw some of the women wearing these soft-looking shoes. Don’t you think they hurt?”
“They must be used to it.”
“And the dust! I knew about dust, but it’s so strange to have it floating around in the air. It’s like sea spray, except it makes my throat scratchy.”
As they bumped along through the town, Esther spotted Cody stripping bark from a pile of logs with some other young men. He straightened from his work at the sound of their approach, accidentally knocking over a few tools that had been leaning against the logs. He raised a hand in greeting, and a whirl of dust from their tires surrounded him.
Esther leaned forward to get a look at Cally’s face when they saw Cody, but the jeep jolted her roughly, and the moment passed. Cally was far too occupied with her observations from her very first morning on land to pay attention to her admirer. She and the others had doubtless been warned to act like they wanted to join the Lake People, but Cally’s enthusiasm was genuine. Esther liked seeing the town through Cally’s eyes. She had been so focused on Naomi and the Dentist—and being knocked flat by fever—that she hadn’t had much chance to appreciate the wonder of it. They were on land.
They drove toward the community gardens near the smokehouse. The field stretched toward the tree line like a frozen green wave, the plants bristling in neat rows. Half a dozen others from the Lucinda were already at work.
“We got you guys pulling weeds today,” Bole said.
“What are weeds?” Cally asked.
“Fast-growing plants that pop up where you don’t want ’em.”
“Why wouldn’t you want them?”
“They choke out the good plants. These babies need room to grow.”
The jeep lurched to a stop beside the smokehouse. Esther and Cally followed Bole out into the field.
A group of women were showing the Lucindans, including Dax and Anita, which plants to pull. Esther recognized Betsy from the dormitory and Sue Ellen from the bathhouse among them. Thompson and Jones stood watch nearby with a handful of other men. Thompson’s eyes cut toward Esther and the others when they arrived. Then he went back to scanning the trees for signs of trouble.
Cally went over to join Dax and kissed him on the cheek, earning a disapproving stare from Sue Ellen nearby. Apparently, Cally and Dax were back on good terms. Sue Ellen made her way over to the young couple, obviously preparing a lecture on appropriate behavior for the newcomers.
Esther spotted her father further out in the field. Simon was on his knees with his hands in the dirt. Long rows of leafy green plants spread around him, bearing some sort of bulbous, greenish fruit. When Esther walked up to him, he sat back on his heels and smiled.
“How are you feeling, button?”
“Much better.” She squatted beside him in the dirt.
“Have you learned anything new?” he asked after glancing over at the nearest townswoman. Betsy knelt about ten feet away, but she was busy showing Anita the proper way to break up the dirt around the weeds with a little shovel.
Esther hesitated, remembering Naomi saying she didn’t have a sister or a father. Remembering her insistence that she wouldn’t leave the town if they tried to break her out.
“I talked to her,” she whispered. “It’s definitely our Naomi.”
Simon smiled, blinking rapidly. “Any news on her sentence?”
Esther lowered her voice further, wishing there was a better way to break this news to her father. “She’s going to be executed.”
Simon looked up sharply. A grim shadow crossed his face, like a storm cloud over the sun. Tension stiffened his shoulders, and he dug his fingers into the dirt. He took a second to compose himself. Then he reached for another weed and said, “When?”
“I don’t know. She said she betrayed the Dentist.”
“Betrayed?”
“That’s the word she used,” Esther said.
Simon worked at the weed for a moment, easing it out of the earth with practiced hands. “That doesn’t sound like a transgression of chastity, does it? I wonder if there’s more to her crime than Yvonne told you.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Esther said. “It doesn’t matter as long as we can break her out. I want to try tonight.”
Simon looked at her then, and she couldn’t read his expression. Concern and determination, yes, but there was more to it. Pain? Guilt? He looked down and yanked another weed from the earth with none of his earlier gentleness. A fine spray of dust coated his trousers.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Esther,” he said. “Our friends have been closely guarded since they arrived.” He nodded toward Thompson and the others. “We may want to give it a few days before moving, in case their attentions relax.”
“Okay . . .” Esther said slowly. They had talked about using their friends’ arrival and subsequent welcome as a cover for their big move. She didn’t like the idea of waiting any longer than necessary. “I thought we would do it when they got here. David was saying—”
“I’ve already spoken to David about it,” Simon said.
There was a strange note to his voice. Was he hiding something from her?
“Oh. So I guess we’ll give it a day or two then . . .”
Esther’s father clearly had something on his mind that he didn’t want to share with her. But then she was hiding something from
him too: the very real possibility that she had been wrong and it wasn’t their Naomi after all. Maybe a day or two would give Naomi time to come to her senses. She had to leave with them. She had to know them.
Betsy moved a bit closer to Esther and Simon and kneeled down to work a single row away. She hummed the tune to the reel they had danced at the bonfire night.
“So, let me show you what we’re doing here,” Simon said brusquely, handing Esther a threadbare pair of gloves. While Betsy pulled weeds nearby, Simon explained how to tell the difference between the weeds and the scrappy tomato plants. “Tomatoes! Aren’t they beautiful?”
“They’re green.”
“They have a ways to go yet before they’re ripe,” Simon said. He looked up at the men lounging by the smokehouse. “I don’t know if we’ll get to enjoy these ones ourselves.”
They worked down the lines side by side. Esther could see why her father enjoyed gardening. It was amazing to dig her fingers into the crumbling soil. She took off the gloves and let the earth fall over her skin. She almost felt bad pulling out the weeds. They were living, growing things that had found a place to set their roots. They had worked hard to be here. They deserved it.
By the time they reached the end of their respective rows, the sun had strengthened, warming the earth and sending sweat down their faces. They flopped down in the dirt to take a break. Betsy brought a wooden bucket and a big spoon over to them. She offered it to Simon first.
“Would you like some water, sir?”
“Thank you. It’s Bethany, right?” Simon said.
Esther looked up. Her father never got people’s names wrong.
“Betsy.”
“So sorry, Betsy. Thank you.” Simon had to use both hands to steady the spoon while he drank deeply from the water, seemingly to keep from shaking. He handed the spoon back to Betsy and went over to talk to the others from the Lucinda. There was definitely something strange about him today. He made Esther think of a coiled spring, ready to leap into motion at the slightest nudge. And he was usually so calm!