“Okay, Kings,” Maxine called in her take-charge voice. “Let’s all stay together. Big kids help the little kids off the plane.” Big kids help the little kids. The motto of their family—it was always Ethan, Lucy, and Galen assuming responsibility for Malcolm, Monroe, and Harper. Galen let the twins slide ahead of him as they made a beeline for the slide. Lucy looked for Harper, but her mother was already holding tight to the girl’s hand. Ethan was busy with Teddy, packing up his acquired belongings: a toy car, a stuffed hippopotamus, and a collection of books. Blair had packed every toy, blanket, stuffed animal she had procured for him. Of everyone on the plane, Teddy had the most things. Allison lurked behind Ethan, grabbing the extra bags and looking altogether useless.
“You coming with me?” Cass asked and Lucy nodded, relieved to have the companionship. “I’ll wait for you.” Cass waited her turn in the line of people disembarking the plane, and then swung down on to the inflated slide, holding her bag in her lap as she went.
Lucy hesitated at the door and felt the push of the people behind her. She realized too late that she had picked a bad day to wear a dress, and yet she jumped, sliding down until she reached the sandy bottom. Slipping off her shoes, Lucy stood and wiggled her toes. Sand. The sand was cold and wet against her foot, the grains rubbed in between her toes. Tucking her bag into her body, Lucy looked up.
Looming in front of her, to the left of the plane, was an amusement park. An abandoned Ferris wheel sat unmoving, its carriages drifting back and forth in the wind. A steel rollercoaster peeked above a red and white circus tent. The strong gusts of coastal wind whipped through the tent and pieces of it flapped angrily against the sides. Lucy walked forward, drawn to the park by some invisible string, her mouth agape. A giant collection of swings danced and creaked from a swing carousel. Nothing looked gloomier than the paint-chipped clowns and empty carnival game stands; stuffed animals dangling ownerless for the rest of time. Lucy took another step toward the park, and kept her eyes trained on the motionless rides. In the not too distant past, this was a place of laughter and mirth.
It reminded Lucy of an old friend from elementary school whose family moved away quite suddenly. Maxine took Lucy over to their apartment to check on them and they found the apartment abandoned and trashed. In one of the back bedrooms, a place where Lucy had played with her friend for hours, they found a half-empty toy box. Inside: a half-dressed Babrie doll that had undergone a haircut. Lucy remembered playing Barbies with her friend, but seeing that doll—alone, dirty, left behind—made Lucy sad. It wasn’t right to have to leave without your toys; it wasn’t right to abandon something that had once been so well loved.
The carnival made her sad for the same reasons.
Lucy heard Cass whistle. She turned. No more than a hundred yards in front of the plane was a pier. It jutted out into the water, waves lapped against its barnacled posts. She gulped. Had their pilot not stopped the plane exactly on that stretch of runway, they would have run right into the raised platform, splintering the wood and sending the whole jetty crashing into the ocean. Lucy’s eyes were on the pier and the amusement park in her periphery when she followed Cass’s gaze.
It was not the pier or the towering rollercoasters that attracted her attention.
No, Cass had wandered down the beach, away from the disembarking travelers, and she was looking outward into the ocean. As the waves rolled inward, the sun passing by overhead, Lucy caught a glimpse of a tower out at sea. It rose and then disappeared. Its top was present for a second, then gone. Occasionally she could see other little mounds, which looked like glass rocks in the distance, but after peering further, she realized the mounds were connected to the middle area. Little dots of white twinkles shone brightly from the tower, lit up like a Christmas tree and acting as a beacon to the weary travelers.
“Is that Kymberlin?” Lucy asked when she reached Cass on the beach. She realized that this must have been how Dorothy felt when she first spied the glimmering beauty of the Emerald City. Huck’s crowning achievement was majestic.
Cass nodded, her eyes wide.
Lucy held her shoes behind her back and stood on her tiptoes to see. Then she walked forward, absorbing the distinguishing details of this city on the sea. It had a mirage quality to it: a dreamlike appearance. It was as if it could have been tangible or a hallucination, all at once.
“It doesn’t look real,” Lucy said. “It’s so...futuristic. How could anyone not notice this thing cropping up in their backyard?”
“It’s real,” Cass answered. Then she turned to Lucy, “People believe what you tell them. Conspiracy theorists are shot down as wackos. If the news tells you it’s a scientific station to study wave energy, then you don’t wonder why the military is involved. Why boats that got close were lost at sea...”
“No way,” Lucy shook her head. “I didn’t hear about any of that.”
Cass shrugged. “Of course not.”
“It’s not that far away.”
Cass turned and shook her head, her braids drifting across her back. “It’s very far away. The land gives the illusion that it’s closer than it is. But don’t be fooled, Lucy. Huck might want comfort for his handpicked population, but he certainly doesn’t want them capable of leaving the Islands.” Then, without saying anything else, she turned and left Lucy alone on the beach.
From the distance, Lucy could hear the chop chop chop of a helicopter approaching. She scanned the sky and noticed several small black dots drifting toward the beach, their trajectory aimed straight at the medium sized plane harpooned on the white stretch of sand. People began to gather and point, excited murmurs carried on the wind, but Lucy kept her eyes focused forward on the lights in the distance.
Everyone else from Lucy’s plane had stayed close to the landing site, and she could hear her mother calling for her to come back, but Lucy tuned her out and tried to focus on the sound of the waves. She let the roar of the ocean pour over her as she looked out at the tower of Kymberlin: her new home.
They had been the fourth plane to arrive. A caravan of helicopters transported them from the beach to Kymberlin. And when the helicopters landed them atop the north tower, they traveled down a glass elevator straight into the middle of a welcome party. Lucy was hyper-aware of everything; she wanted to take it all in so she could tell Grant later. The helipad had a singular entrance and exit, and the elevator went from the exposed roof straight down into a common area without stopping. It was visible and public. All of it. Every piece, every corner of Kymberlin was glass and windows and dangling crystal chandeliers.
When Lucy and her family exited the elevator, cheers erupted and several people rushed forward to welcome them home. Music pumped out into the open foyer and men in white suits raced around serving small plates of appetizers. Lucy stumbled backward and clutched her bag in front of her as a man passed by with food. She saw her mother look over to her father with a huge smile on her face, and he beamed at her, puffed up with pride.
The waiters were bringing them food they hadn’t had in a long time: caviar, aged cheeses, fresh fruit, and champagne. The music and the energy were warm and inviting, and even Lucy felt her defenses melting. It was a party. A party for the new arrivals. The light and the smiling faces caused Lucy to feel like she had arrived at some exotic resort—maybe the last two months had been a dream, maybe she awoke and her family was on their Seychelles vacation after all.
Then Lucy saw Teddy clutching Ethan’s hand, his face scanning everyone who walked by in hopes of spotting his mother, and her heart sank. Amidst the party atmosphere, they could not escape the reality of their situation. They were here because others weren’t. They were here on the backs of the dead. And there was Teddy, searching among the survivors for a face he would never find. It had been stupid for Ethan to give the boy a shred of hope.
Not long after, the nanny and Ethan engaged in a tense verbal battle that ended with Allison carting Teddy away, struggling under the wiggling child and the burden of th
eir baggage. Ethan, his body rigid with anger, watched the child disappear through the crowd. Lucy wished she had words of comfort to offer him. She wished he would stop being so angry with her.
Lucy wandered away from her family and tried to get a better feel for Kymberlin’s layout. She walked to the center of the common room and realized that it wrapped all the way around in a loop and the middle of the loop was hollow. The center of the tower was equipped with four elevators that ran vertically up the levels. She peered down and saw that the structure itself was comprised of twenty or more stories, each with its own open layout; some of the levels were labeled as shops, and one entire floor was a library, but Lucy couldn’t see beyond the first few floors down.
It reminded Lucy of a mall in downtown Portland; it was built straight up, maneuverable by a series of escalators, and if you stood on the top level and looked down, the shoppers moving around below appeared tiny and indistinguishable; little blobs of bustling people. She had heard about a man plummeting to his death off the top floor of the mall when she was very little, and the story stuck with her. Every time her mother took her to the mall, she would travel up the climbing escalators with a real and terrible sense of her own mortality.
Lucy realized with a growing pit in her stomach that it would not take much for someone to stand atop the guardrail and plunge down through the center of the tower of Kymberlin. The thought made Lucy queasy. She leaned and tried to see what lay at the bottom, but she felt a firm hand on her back before she could get a glance. She yelped and jumped back, afraid of reprimand and frightened by the sudden appearance of someone so close to her.
She turned and saw Cass’s dad standing next to her.
“It’s a long fall,” Claude told her, but without the warning tone she was anticipating.
“What’s at the bottom?” she asked.
“Like the floor of a glass-bottomed boat. Like you are walking on water.”
Lucy nodded. “It’s...”
“A stunning piece of architecture, yes.”
She saw the twinkle in Claude’s eye and she nodded again. “It reminds me of this mall back home.”
Claude flinched and drew a sharp breath through his teeth. The reference had offended him, and Lucy blushed. Comparing his masterpiece to a shopping mall.
“I always thought of it more as a piece of art.” He looked up and scanned the crowd and then put a hand on Lucy’s back, pushing her toward the growing party. “Go, enjoy. There’s plenty of time to stare off into the abyss. It’s a welcome party for you, is it not?”
She walked away from Claude, leaving him standing near the railing, and he watched her walk back toward her family. She surveyed the other people milling around with wan, tired smiles plastered on their faces. As more people arrived, everyone showed an exuberance of warmth and glee.
A man walked by carrying a platter with bubbling champagne, and Lucy swiped one swiftly. She sucked it down and deposited the empty glass on a nearby table. A different man walked by and Lucy swiped a second glass. But it was the third glass that drew Maxine’s attention, like she had a beacon in place for her daughter’s misbehavior. She stormed over, her eyes honed in on the glass in Lucy’s hand. Under her mother’s watchful stare, Lucy made a gallant show of grabbing a fourth glass and gulping the bubbly liquid down before Maxine took a swipe. She drank half the glass before her mother wrestled the alcohol away from her.
“Excuse me,” Maxine hissed. “Let’s not meddle with poor choices today.” She had Harper by the hand, and the child pulled her toward a chocolate fountain. “I’m serious,” she added, as if her tone hadn’t conveyed enough conviction. Then in a show of mental fortitude, Maxine, without breaking eye contact, finished Lucy’s glass of champagne and handed her daughter back the empty flute.
“Ha!” Lucy guffawed, a smooth and warm sensation spreading from her chest to her arms. She pointed at her mother, a wiggly index finger, and felt a surge of confidence. “We’re here. It’s a party...for us.” She hiccupped. And smiled. “Just because I did that doesn’t mean I’m drunk.”
“Remember that you live with me,” Maxine said, and she stumbled a few more feet at Harper’s behest. “Wise choices,” she reiterated before turning her back, shooting her daughter a scornful stare.
Lucy watched a tall member of the wait staff waltz by her, and she eyed another glass of champagne, but she let it disappear into the crowd. Standing tall, Lucy watched the crowd ebb and flow; there were faces that she recognized mixed with faces that she didn’t. The elevator dinged, the glass doors opened, and the crowd cheered as more people disembarked. Their hair was ratted and their clothes dingy, but each wore a smile as they walked out through the throngs of Kymberlin residents.
A young man, tall and blond, with a slender build and a high forehead, raised his glass in a toast, and those who had gathered clinked their glasses together in a salute. It was then Lucy noticed Huck and Gordy, huddled together near the edge of the room, watching the people with satisfied smiles. Huck leaned over and whispered something to his son, and Gordy nodded in the affirmative. Then the older man disappeared—slipping out through the partiers relatively unnoticed.
Lucy spun and tried to focus her eyes. Leading outward from the tower were four long sky-bridges expanding out over the ocean. Those bridges connected to the mounds Lucy had spotted from the shore. They were enclosed and made of glass; as she watched Huck walk down the bridge, it looked as though he walked on nothing at all. Like walking on water, Claude had said. Like walking on air, Lucy thought.
She felt a nudge and turned, expecting to see one of her brothers, but it was Cass who stood holding a champagne flute in her hand, her other hand draped over her waist. She looked at Lucy expectantly, her eyebrows raised.
“Hello there my little Lark,” Cass said. “So? Thoughts?”
Lucy hiccupped. She frowned. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
Cass laughed. She threw her head back and giggled. “Really? Already? We’ve only just arrived.”
“It’s just all the,” she hiccupped again, “bubbles.”
“Of course.” Cass laughed again and put a hand on Lucy’s bicep. “The bubbles. Of course.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “You ready to ditch this place? See my place?”
Lucy turned. “You have your own place?”
Cass nodded. “Bein sûr, ami.”
“Then why do I have to live with my parents?” Lucy asked with a hiccup. She wondered where Grant would live, since he didn’t have parents. Maybe he’d have roommates again. She hoped that he would also have his own place and that she could join him; she let her thoughts linger on how good it would feel to have a place of their own, just the two of them. Then she shook the thought away. She’d have to get him here first, and then she could spend time dreaming of hours alone in his apartment with an ocean view.
“You get your own apartment at twenty-two. The rules of Huck. It’s an arbitrary number...one that happens to benefit me.” She held her glass in one hand and grabbed Lucy’s hand with the other, pulling her toward one of the sky-bridges. With one last look behind them, they left the crowd and journeyed onward, venturing along the enclosed walkway. The ocean floated by underneath their feet.
“It’s all glass,” Lucy said breathlessly. She watched her feet glide forward, suspended high above the waves. “It makes me feel...”
“Like you’re flying?”
“No.” She stopped and rested her hand along the transparent wall—nothing but horizon on either side.
“This way,” Cass said and she motioned for Lucy to follow. They tripped along, reaching the end and finding themselves in a small lobby with six doors. Each door opened to a different descending staircase. Cass pushed on door number five, and then they clomped down the stairs. The walls of the stairwell were transparent as well. Lucy looked up and stifled a shocked gasp. She could see several other people moving in adjacent stairwells across the way.
“We’re in the ocean,” Lucy said as she
followed Cass downward. They paused on a landing and the water licked the wall beside them. Tiny collections of seaweed and foam pushed against the glass. She half-expected to see a shark fin swim by. “On the ocean. In the ocean. We’re on the ocean. In the ocean.”
With a laugh, Cass nodded. “Oh my darling, Lucy. Will you be okay?”
“The world is gone, all the people are gone, and we’re here on the ocean. An island...an island in the ocean.”
“He wants the earth to heal,” Cass replied. “So, he took the people from the earth and sent them to sea.” She opened the door and pushed it wide. In front of them was a long hallway, similar to the design of the System. As Lucy followed Cass, she felt like she was walking in a hallway of a moving hotel; the floor underneath her swayed. She blinked and took a gulp of cold air.
“Is it moving?” Lucy asked.
“Darling, that’s the champagne,” Cass said. She reached a door and pointed with a wide smile. “Look.” Her name, Cassandra Salvant, was written in a flowery script and engraved into a brass nameplate. She reached into her pocket and produced a silver key. Slipping the key into the lock and then turning the knob, Cass swung the door open. They walked inside.
The lights of the apartment were on a motion sensor and they engaged, filling the room with a low, warm, glow. The far wall was glass, like the sky bridge and the stairwell. Outside, the horizon was growing darker as the sun set out of their sight. Lucy walked forward and stared at the endless expanse of water just beyond the wall. The wall itself was a giant window—Lucy felt like she could just walk straight through and step into the ocean, like nothing would stop her.
“I feel so...exposed,” Lucy said. She looked at the rest of the room. A kitchen and a sunken living room with a sofa, a credenza against the shared wall, and a bookshelf filled with Cass’s favorites. To the left of the kitchen, in a small nook, was a queen-sized bed. It was covered in a tan comforter and bright orange pillows. There were cut flowers on a two-person kitchen table and Cass let her fingers slide over the petals. Real flowers. She leaned to inhale their sweet aroma.
The Virulent Chronicles Box Set Page 89