by Sara Grant
After I’d worked up the nerve to go to the ‘necessary’, which in the short term consisted of an empty plastic bag and two tissues from my messenger bag, we gathered at the entrance. Midnight slept on my lap with one paw covering her eyes, like she was some melodramatic actress in one of those silent movies.
‘The only way we are going to make it is if we work together.’ I sounded like my mother.
‘We need to make a plan,’ Marissa piped up. Was Mum inhabiting her too?
‘Can’t we eat?’ Tate whined. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Yeah, in a minute. We need to agree on a few things first.’ If Chaske was annoyed, he kept any hint of it out of his voice. I was impressed at his self-control.
‘We need roles and responsibilities.’ Marissa studied each of us carefully. ‘Tate.’ At the sound of his name, he sat up. ‘Tate, you will be our timekeeper.’
‘What? Why me?’ he moaned.
‘You’ve got the most expensive watch,’ Marissa continued. ‘I’m assuming it’s one of those that doesn’t need a battery. It keeps time using your body’s movement, right?’
Tate proffered his wrist so we could see our official timepiece, a big, chunky silver Rolex. ‘Yeah, right. What do I have to do?’
‘Our days and nights could easily get mixed up. It would be great if you could give us a regular account of the time and also find some central place to tally the days. What do you say?’ She had that unique combination of soothing and condescension in her voice. Was she giving him a compliment or making fun of him? It was hard to tell.
‘Yeah, sure. Whatever,’ Tate said. ‘Can we eat now?’
‘We are making some pretty important decisions and you are a part of this team,’ Marissa said.
Tate shrugged and slouched back, reclining on his elbows. ‘So get on with it.’
‘Chaske, can you be responsible for toilets and sleeping quarters?’ Marissa stated it as a question but it was clear she was handing out orders. It felt strange all of a sudden that Marissa had decided she was boss. I mean, she was right but I didn’t like the feeling of being told what to do. I’d brought her here, after all.
‘I’ll manage all our supplies,’ I said. It was the most important job and I decided no one was going to do it but me. ‘Tomorrow I’ll divide up the resources and make sure we have enough to keep us going for as long as possible.’
‘That’s fab, Ice,’ Marissa said. Her tone was that of someone rewarding a dog for a simple trick. Up until now, I’d seen mostly the ‘cheer’ part. Now I thought I was meeting the ‘captain’.
‘What about you?’ Chaske asked Marissa.
‘I’ll help you with the physical stuff tomorrow,’ she said, and put her hand on Chaske’s knee. What was she doing? Was she holding her friends close and her enemies closer? She did say she was going to keep an eye on him, didn’t she?
‘Yeah, OK,’ Chaske said, and stretched his legs, which caused Marissa’s hand to shift off him. ‘We should move everything further down into the tunnel. But we can sleep here again tonight.’
‘That’s fab, Chaske,’ Marissa said. She batted her eyelashes at him. I think his cheeks went a little pink with embarrassment. Was she flirting or playing him? Marissa was much more complex than I’d originally thought. Chaske wouldn’t fall for her giggly-lack-of-hair-flip-cheerleader routine. Would he?
Then it hit me. I felt a fluttering in my stomach and this feeling like an emotional hiccup when I looked at Chaske. The guy saved my life and I was crushing on him, big-time. I was envious of Marissa’s girlish ease around him. I needed to get a grip. This was reality, not reality TV.
Chapter Eighteen
‘Stuff that doesn’t kill me, makes me way better.’
– Just Saying 222
HARPER
Finch and Harper spend the morning digging Atti’s grave at the base of the Mountain near Finch and Atti’s father’s burial mound. Some time overnight Finch has shaved his head. Harper doesn’t ask him why. This isn’t about him, no matter how much he’s trying to use Atti’s death to gain attention. Today is about saying goodbye to a dear, sweet little girl who was a ray of sunshine in their dull existence. They place her remains in the misshapen hole. Harper can’t bring herself to cover Atti with dirt. Finch does that on his own. It’s horrible seeing dirt fill in Atti’s missing pieces. Harper helps him cover the grave with a blanket of stones. A sob is permanently wedged in her throat. She can’t believe Atti’s gone.
As the Cheerleaders gather, Harper sprinkles Atti’s grave with the tiny white and yellow flowers that grow wild on the Mountain. Atti would have loved it. They have picked flowers together before and made crowns. Every petal that falls feels like it’s taking the small remaining pieces of her only friend away. A warm breeze stirs the air, creating spirals of petals that rise and fall as if Atti’s spirit is swaying among them, refusing to abandon Harper.
Lucky is perched on a boulder looking down at the scene. Finch scrambles up next to her. His newly shaven head glows pink from the sun. Without his hair, he looks menacing. Maybe that was his intention. All faces are tilted towards him. He stands taller. Speaks louder. Moves swifter. It’s as if he has been inflated by this new respect from Forreal. It’s making him a bigger man. Harper’s not sure it’s making him a better one.
Harper misses Beckett. It’s more than just his physical presence. She feels as if she’s extinguished Forreal’s light somehow. It’s not right to have Beckett locked away. This is all her fault. She was heartbroken at seeing Beckett kiss that girl, but she never should have turned to Finch. She never should have lied about seeing Terrorists. She should have known what her words would inspire. She told a frustrated hunter that she’d spotted his prey. She wishes she could take it all back. She never should have called those people Terrorists no matter what people like them did to her family.
Cheerleaders have rocks cupped in their hands. ‘It’s twelve and twelve,’ the Timekeeper calls. It’s time to begin.
‘Everyone gather around,’ the Twitter, Cal, says. ‘We are going to start our tribute to Atti with a reading from the CQ.’
Harper turns a stone over and over in her hands. Its smooth, flat surface gives way to sharp edges. She found it when she was looking for Atti. It was buried among her meagre pile of belongings. She had her Facebook and another lump of carved wood, which she said was a sheep her father had whittled. The wood was worn smooth and shapeless by Atti’s fidgeting fingers. There were the remains of the flowers she and Harper had collected a few days ago. A scrap of blue material with yellow flowers from a dress her mum used to wear. A silver, sparkling loop that Finch found on one of his scavenges. Atti said she thought it was special and sacred, but Harper knew it was an earring from when people used to put holes in their ears.
Harper rubs the rough edges of the stone where it was once a part of something bigger. She imagines the hole it left. As they dug Atti’s grave, she was amazed how the ground broke in large chunks, which looked solid and felt heavy in her hands, but she could easily smash those clods into dust with one swift whack of her shovel.
‘No death is a good death,’ the Twitter proclaims the Just Saying. ‘Atti has left us too soon. We can’t bring her back. We can’t say “what if”. We need to celebrate her life and then move forwards.’
Cal pauses and the crowd choruses, ‘Whatever.’ The Cheerleaders look at one another, lost without their Cheer Captain.
Finch climbs off the boulder and as he speaks he walks among those who have gathered. ‘We will miss Atti, but this is not a sad occasion. Atti has become one with the Mountain. As the Great I AM says, “We custom-make our afterlife”. And if I know Atti, she will be reunited with our parents and her ever-after will be filled with flowers and kittens and rainbows, but no more questions.’ Finch chuckles to himself. Harper thinks his speech is strange. Atti was so full of questions. Each one seemed to irritate Finch. Now he’s acting as if they were endearing.
‘We will miss you, Atti,’ Fi
nch shouts, raising his fists to the sky. Harper hates how he’s taking advantage of Atti’s death, using her to elevate his place in Forreal. She hopes he cared for Atti, but she’s never been sure. It’s one of the reasons she and Atti felt a kinship. They were both abandoned, one way or the other, by their families.
‘We ask that the Great I AM watch over you.’ Finch places his rock on Atti’s grave. The flower petals stir. ‘And by the power of Victoria’s Secret, we will avenge your death!’
He cracks his knuckles as if punctuating his speech. Harper reluctantly steps up next to him. She kisses the stone and then places it on Atti’s grave. Her stone has dark drops on its sandy surface and she realizes those are her tears. Harper wants to tell them about the real Atti. The one who had so much to say that words spilled out of her and filled the silence, but Harper is too overwhelmed with sadness to speak. Harper walks to a place just outside the circle of Cheerleaders.
Each rock falls with a sharp click against the others as the pile builds. Voices rise as each Cheerleader talks about Atti, bringing her alive in their memories for these last few precious moments. Then she will be gone, and the CQ encourages Forreal to look forwards, not back. But Harper will never forget Atti.
‘Please join with me in our Farewell Tune,’ Finch says and begins to sing: ‘Don’t hold on to hate. Accept your fate. We had time. All you got is time. Till it’s gone.’ Everyone cheers and claps and sings along and Harper’s heart lightens a little. When the last note rings out and wafts away, Finch climbs up onto the new mound of rocks over his sister’s grave. ‘Tomorrow we will attack the Man-Made Mountains at sunset, and we will burn what the Terrorists have built.’
Harper thinks about the girl Beckett kissed and the four boys she attacked. Part of her wants them to pay for what their ancestors did. She wishes Forreal had never seen the lights. She wishes that girl had stayed away. Forreal will never be the same, but if Forreal attacks these Survivors, they will become no better than the Terrorists they have feared for so long.
As Finch bellows on about his plans, the Cheerleaders’ grief and fear turn to anger. Harper understands. Grief and fear are helpless emotions. They are thrust upon you and all you can do is suffer. But anger has power and purpose. Anger gives a victim control. For so long, Forreal has been scared of Terrorists, of leaving the Mountain, of everything Out There – and of staying and dying and living a short, simple life of isolation. The Cheerleaders are ready to blame and hate. Thanks to Harper’s lie, Finch turns that girl and her people into beasties. Forreal believes him because they want an enemy, someone they can destroy so that their fear can subside.
Harper’s impulsive, thoughtless words have caused this confrontation. When she blurted them, this wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to keep that girl away from Beckett and her people off the Mountain. She doesn’t want Forreal to hate and destroy like the others from the Time Before and like those who destroyed her family. Harper has to stop Finch. Beckett is her only hope.
Harper edges away slowly, keeping her eyes trained on Finch. He doesn’t notice her movement. She’s not sure he’s seeing any of them right now. His focus is on the Man-Made Mountains and the Terrorists she has helped him bring to life. Harper has to make this right.
Tom is guarding Beckett. He is pacing back and forth across the entrance of the cave. Beckett is slouched at the back of the cave. His hands and feet are bound. His eyes are closed but his lips are moving. He’s Saying. Of course he’s Saying, and this time I am the answer, Harper thinks. Her heart breaks at what she’s done. He will never look at her in the same way. They will always have this scar of betrayal between them.
‘Finch asked me to relieve you,’ Harper lies to Tom. He squints and studies her. Years of distrust can’t be overcome by one Terrorist sighting. Harper has been ‘other’ too long for him to trust her easily. ‘Finch thought you might like to say goodbye to Atti.’ Wait. That’s not what will convince Tom, Harper realizes. ‘Oh, and Finch is making plans for the attack and he wants the best Cheerleaders to help with the planning,’ Harper explains.
Tom dashes off without a word. Like so many of the Cheerleaders, he is now anxious to do battle.
When Tom is out of sight, Harper unties Beckett, but she can’t meet his gaze. ‘We’ve got to get out of here.’
He rubs the red, raw patches on his wrists and ankles where the ropes have dug into his skin. She helps him stand. He’s trying to look her in the eyes and they do this strange dance as she looks anywhere but at him. ‘What is Finch planning?’ he asks.
She hesitates. If she tells him, he will try to stop Finch. Harper doesn’t know what Finch might do if Beckett interferes. Suddenly she doesn’t care so much about the girl and her people. All she wants is for Beckett to be safe. For their relationship to go back the way it was. ‘Let’s go away, just for a little while.’
‘Harper.’ Even her name sounds different, like an accusation.
He places his hand on her shoulder and she melts.
‘Finch plans to attack the Man-Made Mountains at sunset tomorrow,’ Harper blurts. She walks to the cave’s entrance and checks around. Forreal is empty, but soon everyone will return. ‘We need to go.’
‘I forgive you,’ Beckett says. He’s right beside her. And for a moment, she is home once again in his presence.
Then the image of him kissing that girl flashes into her mind and she moves away. She’s that five-year-old wandering in the desert. How can he forgive when he doesn’t even understand?
‘I saw you kiss her.’ She looks him in the eye.
‘Her name’s Greta.’
That’s what those boys called her. ‘I remember now, Beckett. I know what happened to me before I came to your Mountain, and it was people like her who killed my family. Don’t you see? There are no beasties. We destroy each other. We are all Terrorists.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Harper shakes her head. ‘I overheard some of her people talking. They want to take over our Mountain.’ That’s not exactly what they said, but she’s got to make Beckett listen. ‘Greta’s a spy. She’s using you. Can’t you see it?’
‘She is just a girl trying to survive,’ Beckett says. He hasn’t heard a word she’s said. ‘I have to warn her.’
‘Don’t go.’ Harper blocks his way.
‘I have to. I can’t stand by and let Finch destroy Vega.’ He’s talking as if his actions are grounded in the Great I AM’s teachings, but Harper knows he’s desperate to save Greta. Beckett can’t hide his affection for this girl. It’s reflected in his eyes and the pulsing of his tensed muscles.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Harper says. Maybe she can change his mind. Maybe she can confront the girl and make Beckett see her lies.
‘I will meet you at our spot, after I’ve got a message to Greta.’
Harper’s heart aches. He has shared secrets and stolen kisses with that girl. He’s putting her safety above everything else.
‘Once I’m sure Greta is safe, we’ll figure out how to stop Finch,’ Beckett says.
She watches him race down the Mountain. She’s lost him. She wants to blame the girl, but she knows she’s pushed him away, and that’s what hurts most of all.
Chapter Nineteen
The rest of that first day, we kept busy. Chaske took us on a tour. The walls looked like jumbo graph paper with score marks from what must have been blasting. Rock fragments were scattered everywhere. The tunnel narrowed to the width of a two-lane highway. The ceiling was as high as my high-school gym’s.
‘Ice, keep up!’ Marissa called. I had stopped, eyes fixed heavenward. What was happening out there? Through all that rock was there still blue sky and sunshine?
‘Dread! Seriously!’ Tate bellowed.
I had to stop thinking like that. Stop thinking, period. I would drive myself crazy if I kept questioning and wondering and focusing on everything I’d left behind.
When I lowered my gaze, they had vanished. I was surrounded by sandy-brown
rock – and nothing else. I was alone.
All alone.
‘Where are you?’ I screamed, panic creating ragged, hoarse edges to my voice.
‘We’re right here.’ Chaske appeared ahead of me. In these monotonous surroundings, it was hard to see any definition. The tunnel spiralled down at a steady decline. The others had simply made the first turn.
My body was jittery from thinking I’d been deserted – it was only for a few seconds, but that feeling was lodged in my brain. I rushed to Chaske and had to stop myself from hugging him. He led me to the others.
As we rounded the first turn, Chaske pointed to a metal box the size of a laptop computer bolted to the rock wall. Two thick cables led from the box to the ceiling. ‘Here are the main light switches,’ he said. ‘If we can stand the pitch black, I think we should turn the lighting off every night. We’re not sure how the lights are powered so it might be best to conserve.’
I didn’t like the idea of shutting off the lights ever again. The pitch black made this place feel beyond screepy, but I didn’t say anything.
Marissa clapped. ‘Excellent. Awesome.’
I didn’t understand where this over-enthusiasm was coming from. Maybe that’s how she dealt with fear, she buried it behind a wall of perky.
Chaske kept walking until he reached a cubbyhole. ‘We can each pick one of these for our own room.’
‘Oh,’ Marissa said, stepping closer to Chaske. ‘I thought we might,’ she paused, ‘we might sleep in the same place like last night.’
‘You can if you want, but I want a little space.’ Chaske backed away from the rest of us. I agreed with him. I wasn’t completely sure I trusted them yet. Also, after seeing the effects of the virus, I thought a little distance might not be a bad thing. It wasn’t a logical thought. If they were already infected, then I would know it by now, wouldn’t I?