by Megan Curd
We stared at each other for a long moment. His smile never faltered. I wondered if his face ever hurt from smiling so much.
“And you want me to take you to my flat, where I live, because you claim that you have a special place for me?”
“That sounds about right, yes.”
“And you expect me to believe this entire story out of the blue?”
“Do you have other options?”
“Yeah,” I said and turned to go. “I can leave you right here and forget you ever showed up.”
“You could do that,” he called to my retreating back, “but then you would never know what happened to your parents, would you?”
“What do you know about my parents?” I asked with my back still turned.
“Oh, I know that Mr. and Mrs. Pike loved you dearly, lived in a ranch style home on a cul-de-sac in a nice little neighborhood before the war tore everything apart. Before it tore them from you.”
I turned to find him picking his fingernail. He’d played his first pawn and was waiting for my move. I knew better than to give him much. “I don’t know why they disappeared, so you could say anything about them, and I’d be forced to believe you.”
“You’re a bright young lady,” he said, looking up. He put a hand in his overcoat and pulled out a photograph. “I appreciate your hesitation. It means you don’t follow blithely along, a trait I welcome in these days of total submission. However, if you’ll come here, I can offer you photographic proof that I knew your parents.”
He was clever. I felt like a magnet, drawn to him by the photo resting innocently in his hand. I took the delicate photo paper from him. It was well worn, rubbed dull at the edges. Where it had been folded many times, the ink was faded and left tiny cracks. It seemed it might crumble to dust right there in my hands. I focused on the image, trembling with both joy and fright.
Mr. Riggs was standing beside my parents, all three of them smiling.
He knew my parents.
“Miss Pike, this photo is from my personal collection. If you come with me, I can tell you more of your history and what happened to you parents.”
He was definitely a gentleman yet at the same time infuriating. I huffed and gave the photo back. “Fine, but you’re not coming home with me.”
“If you insist. When and where would you care to reacquaint ourselves?”
“I’ll meet you here in three hours.”
He bowed, forever smiling. “Most women your age aren’t as cautious as you.”
“I’m not most women.”
“And I will do well to remember that, I’m sure.”
I NEEDED TO talk to Alice about this. She’d know what to do. She always knew what to do when things were crazy. Mr. Riggs agreed to wait for me at the tower, but I still went out of my way to take side streets and extra turns. I wasn’t sure why it felt imperative, but all the same, I followed my instinct.
Riggs’s proposal weighed heavily on my mind. Maybe Alice would have an idea how to deal with the situation. I glanced around the kitchen as I sealed the basement door and found her sitting at the table, sorting mail. “Anything fun in the notices today?”
She winked at me and tossed a stack to my edge of the table. “You know, the usual. Alliance propaganda, news about the steam levels, and your weekly letter from Governor Lindroth that I snatched from the mail center.”
“Good kindling,” I muttered.
“You haven’t even met him.” She gestured to the stack of letters on the granite countertop, some yellowed with age while others were still freshly white and unopened. The governor’s seal was bright against the paper—red wax with two iron rods that twisted into delicate spirals with rubies at the head—was bright against the paper. Behind the iron, a lion reared on its hind legs, mouth wide in mid-roar—the Alliance symbol.
Alice showed me a photo she’d cut from a newspaper. The governor stood with his arm wrapped around a young man’s shoulders, the two of them lifting a trophy. She placed it in my hand and pointed to the boy in the black and white photo. “Have you seen his son? He’s stunning. Maybe he wants to introduce you two. You wouldn’t know, though, since you won’t read the letters.”
“He’s only writing because he wants me to support the Alliance, and I’m not picking sides for a war that ended eleven years ago.”
“You don’t know that. Have you opened one letter? Maybe they’re from his son!”
“And why on earth would his son be writing?”
“I don’t know, but maybe he is!”
“It’s more likely he wants me to provide steam four days a week instead of three. You’d think there were only two of us able to create steam.”
She raised her eyebrows and pointed to the refrigerator where a calendar was held in place by a Hawaii magnet. “Well, there’s only three on the rotation, so you’re not far off. Plus, I can always tell which days you provide steam. The lights in the dome are brighter. You’re stronger than the other two. You do know you’re the governor’s golden child, prodigy, phenomenon thing, right? He’s going to keep writing until you cave.”
“I don’t understand a word you just said. You mean he wants to make a spectacle of me? Because that I understand completely. Did you forget about what happened to Legs not twenty-four hours ago? Why would I help anyone who would do that to their people?”
She opened her mouth, probably to argue, but I wasn’t in the mood for it.
“Look, forget it. You haven’t heard of an Atticus Riggs by any chance, have you?”
“Of course I’ve heard of Atticus Riggs. Who hasn’t?”
Alice was a gossip. Her job at the clothing factory afforded her hours to converse with other ladies about the goings-on of the dome. She stared at me as she leaned across the table. Her eyes twinkled with the excitement of new information. “Where’d you hear about him? I heard he comes and goes…like he’s a ghost or something. One day he’s out with the rest of us, and then he goes underground for weeks on end. No one really knows what he does or where he goes.”
“He came for me today at Wutherford Tower. He says there’s another dome.”
Her head jerked back in surprise, her already big brown eyes even more prominent. “Another dome? That’s ridiculous. Where would another dome be? There aren’t any other survivors. They’ve told us that.”
“He says it’s for people…people like me.”
“And what’d you say to him?”
“That I was going home and acting like I’d never met him.”
“And that’s what you’re doing?”
I could never pass anything by Alice. I felt my face flush and bit the corner of my bottom lip. “Not exactly, no.”
Her eyes narrowed. She lowered her voice as her eyes scanned the area behind me, as though Riggs might miraculously appear there. “He’s not here, is he?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh, okay, good.” She said as she sat back and exhaled loudly. “I was going to say, I haven’t even showered today!”
“Or is it just that you’re living in a condemned home against government rules? I’m breaking the rules by coming out here, and the less people that know, the better.”
“Always so practical, but you’re probably right,” she said, her eyes bright with mischief. “Do you believe him?”
I shrugged. “Not like I really have anything to lose, do I?”
She seemed hurt at my words. I turned them over in my head, and quickly understood why. She’d lost her brother and parents. She wouldn’t want me to leave her behind. “Alice, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that here—well, you’re the only one that doesn’t think I’m a bag of dung.”
“I highly doubt anyone thinks you’re a bag of dung. Are you a bit ostentatious with your abilities? Sure. A bit bullheaded and opinionated? Definitely. You may be all of that, but you’re not a bag of dung.”
“Wow, thanks for the encouragement.”
She smiled. “Any time.”
“Whe
re’d you learn ostentatious, by the way?”
She winked. “An old crossword. Not too bad, huh?”
“Not bad at all. I’ll have to find a good one now.”
We sat in silence at the kitchen table, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on her slender face. I opened letter after letter from Governor Lindroth, all of them begging me to partner with him.
I’d had enough of his smooth talk, enough of the domineering Polatzi, and enough of wondering about my parents. Legs was gone, and Alice was all I had. Suddenly, my decision was clear.
I stood and headed to Alice’s room to begin packing the stuff I had here before I lost my nerve to go with Mr. Riggs. Wherever he took me couldn’t be any worse than here, plus I could avoid giving steam tomorrow if I left tonight.
Alice followed me. “If you leave, we’ll be down to two, and you know they’re nowhere near as good as you. You’re keeping us afloat.”
I jerked my thumb toward the kitchen. “Did you not see the generator running the refrigerator? That keeps us afloat, not me. And quite frankly, I prefer that to being wiped out for the days following my donation to the dome.”
She bit her lip. “You might be right, except the generator is blatantly illegal and I’d be jailed until my hair turned grey for owning one if word got out. You know energy is at an all-time low, even with you giving more than anyone else.”
I listened to her argument as I pulled an empty duffel bag out from under her bed.
“So you’re going to go with Mr. Riggs? You’re leaving the dome, just like that? Leaving me?”
Her words hung in the air, leaving me uncomfortable. I pulled a handful of socks and undergarments from the dilapidated drawer she had provided me for my clothes and tossed them in the bag. A couple shirts and a pair of pants were wadded up in the drawer as well. Everything of mine, no matter the state of wear, went into the duffel. I couldn’t look up from the bag, or my expression would betray my inner conflict.
“It can’t be any worse than here, can it?” Once again I’d stepped on her feelings.
I pulled myself away from the bag and watched her carefully. Her face was full of sadness, and I scrambled to pick up the pieces. I pulled her from the doorframe of the room and hugged her tightly. Her petite frame was practically swallowed up by my embrace, which was saying something, considering I wasn’t that big. After a moment, we pulled away, and I gave her my best smile.
“Look, why don’t you come and we can talk to Mr. Riggs. We can talk him into letting you come with us. You can leave the sewing factory. Who knows, maybe the dome he talked about will have clean air.”
She smiled and opened her mouth to reply, but a magnified voice bellowed outside.
“Misses Pike and Dobson, we know you’re in there. You are under arrest for evading government officials, illegal use of personal generators, and fraternizing with known criminals. Come out with your hands up, and you will not be harmed.”
Panic swept through my body.
Alice was rooted to the floor, her eyes wide with horror. “How…”
My mind immediately went back to the Polatzi woman from this morning. She’d known where we were all along. That or Legs gave them the information they’d wanted.
I grabbed Alice’s hand and slung the open duffel bag over my shoulder. “Time to go!”
A hovercraft was outside; the whirring of the blades roared through the windows. Alice stumbled through the house behind me as I tripped over her sewing kit and my messenger bag.
“Avery, your bag!” She wiggled her tiny hand from my grasp.
“Leave it. It doesn’t matter.”
“You need your bag!” She said, ignoring me.
With her behind me, I tore the seal off the basement door and bolted downstairs into the thick air.
She coughed and clutched her chest. “The air filters are off,” she wheezed. “We don’t have our masks!”
Thank God she’d grabbed my bag. I pulled it from her shoulder and dug into it, all the while holding my breath. After pushing aside a sketchbook, mom’s molten blob, and a pair of goggles, I found the mask. Without even thinking, I thrust it in her hands.
“Breathe.”
As soon as she placed the mask on her face, the suction took hold and I heard her suck in a deep breath. Only seconds had passed, but we’d lost precious time standing on the stairs.
Stars floated before my eyes as I refused my body the air it so desperately screamed for. I took off across the dank basement toward the broken window and pushed a desk against the wall. I used the last stores of my oxygen to spur on my stunned roommate.
“Alice, come on!”
Her shoulders and chest heaved as she took another deep breath and ran to me, pulling off the mask as she neared. She pushed the mask onto my face. “Your turn.”
I felt the pull of the seal tightening around my skin. The hiss of clean air filling the mask was music to my ears, and I sucked in a deep breath. The O2 concentration sped past my eyes on the right lens, then came the notification I didn’t want to see.
Filtration system offline. Lung collapse within fifty-three seconds without mask.
When the message had disappeared, Alice was already through the basement window and in the alleyway.
Above us, the front door exploded with a deafening crash, and the voice sounded again. “Misses Pike and Dobson, you’ve left us no choice. We’re coming in. Do not resist.”
Alice knelt down and yanked my upper body through the window. “Come on!” she urged through clenched teeth.
Once free, I ripped the mask from my face and handed it to her. “Breathe, then let’s go.”
She sucked in a lungful of air and pushed me away from the lights and chaos unfolding in our front yard.
Instinct took over. I clutched her hand and we ran. I felt lightheaded as I pushed myself not to inhale the toxic air. We turned the corner and pressed ourselves against the dank brick wall. Soot and grime intermingled on the surface. Humidity had made everything wet and miserable, and even the buildings seemed to weep at how horrible this place was.
My legs burned, and I began to slide down the wall. Alice pulled off the mask and handed it to me. I greedily attached it to my face, my body clinging to consciousness.
“We have less than a minute before our lungs collapse if we can’t get into a building,” I spluttered. Oxygen had never tasted so sweet. It filled my lungs, and I felt them expand like balloons. Relief. I took another deep breath and handed the mask back to her.
Footsteps rang down the hallway, accompanying a chorus of angry voices muffled by thick masks. “They can’t be far. We were advised they’d be here. Come on.”
Alice draped one of my arms over her shoulder and pulled me along. “Avery, we need to find somewhere to hide.”
We began our sprint again, every thirty seconds or so passing the mask. Twice Alice held it too long and I nearly fell to the ground from lack of oxygen. We zigzagged through alleyways and dead bushes, accumulating cuts and bruises as we ran. There was no time to stop, no time to examine the extent of our wounds.
The mask blocked my vision except for what was directly in front of me. I allowed Alice to guide me when I wore it, and vice-versa. We were so panicked trying to avoid the voices and the hovercraft, I didn’t even look to the side to see a young man step in front of us.
My face crashed into his hard chest, as though he were a brick wall. Alice’s momentum sent her flying forward, skidding on her stomach along the debris littered cement. She cried out, and I skittered backward.
Alice had the mask; she’d had it for a long while. It wouldn’t be long before I was nothing more than a body bag. The man took a step forward and stared down at me. His hat masked his face, his voice velvet. “Running around on a day when the filtration system is off with one mask? That makes me think you have a death wish.”
I didn’t want to die, but I’d be damned if this guy would have the last word before I passed out. “Being willing to watch so
meone die leads me to think you’re an ass.”
My lungs screamed. I my chest would explode.
Just breathe in, Avery, and end it.
No. No. I wouldn’t do it. Alice would come. The man’s body swam before my eyes. His voice melted in my ears. “Not the first time I’ve been called that, but not for letting someone die.”
My eyes rolled into the back of my head.
Maybe I’ll see Mom and Dad when I die.
Suddenly oxygen rushed into my nostrils. My eyes flew open, and I saw the stranger standing over me. His hat obscured his eyes, but he wore a curious smile.
His mask was on my face.
I gripped the sides of it like a life vest and swallowed gulps of air. My chest heaved, and red dots danced before my eyes. I tried to gather words to tell him I owed him my life.
He extended his hand, and I took it willingly. “Let’s go. The Polatzi are coming.” As he turned, his knee-length overcoat swirled around him. He picked Alice up by her waist and carried her under his arm. She seemed too shocked to argue. He looked over his shoulder back to me, his smile growing. “Care to join us, or would you rather get to know the Polatzi on a personal, first-name basis?”
I followed, questions burning through my mind like my lungs had minutes before.
Minutes before. Why didn’t this guy need a mask?
His graceful stride reminded me of the beautiful pictures I’d seen of deer–the way they loped and jumped and acted as though no wall was too high, no speed unattainable. He sprinted down an alley completely obscured by trash and shadows. I never would have seen it. He clambered over the heaps of trash with no trouble, even with Alice in his arms. I struggled, slipped, and lost my footing more than once.
I saw the top of his hat disappear over the peak of a trash heap and fell into despair. He’d taken Alice and left me here. At least he hadn’t let me die. He’d let the Polatzi take care of that. So kind of him.