by Kevin George
“I had help. I never would’ve escaped without it,” she said. “The city’s guarded tunnels are known by everyone, but those weren’t the only ones, not by a longshot. One tunnel ran beneath most of the city, a tunnel that my sweet Edmond never knew about since it wasn’t on any of his cameras.”
“How did you discover it? How did you know where to take it?”
“I didn’t. . . and I didn’t,” Liv chuckled. “But another prominent citizen did. I had very few friends—your father saw to that—but one woman was braver than anyone I’d ever met. Around the time of the yearly summit of section leaders, your father struck me and threatened to do worse. One of the wives knew something was wrong and offered to help, despite the potential risk to her and her family.”
Oliver immediately thought about Maxine Peters, the only wife of a leader that had shown any hint of caring about anyone but herself and her section. Olly thought of her on the edge of the lava pool. . . looking back at Artie. . . telling her son she loved him, a touching moment for everyone in the throne room except for Olly, who’d been anxious to have Artie feel the pain of losing his mother, the same pain Olly himself had spent years experiencing. . .
Shame filled every part of Oliver. He couldn’t look his mother in the eye and hardly managed to squeeze a breath through the tightness in his throat. The thought of Maxine’s final anguished scream replayed over and over in Olly’s mind, a scream only made worse by Artie’s scream as he’d watched his mother consumed by flames. As soon as Olly suppressed the horror of that memory, he gave his mother’s past more thought and realized how loyal the Peters family had always been to the Jonas family, how it would’ve been nearly impossible for Maxine to sneak Queen Liv all the way to The Fifth. The answer suddenly seemed so obvious, especially since he’d already spotted this woman in The Fourth. He glanced back at the line of vehicles and whispered the name.
“Martha Weller.”
He expected his mother to respond right away, but the vehicle filled with silence. Gravity pushed Olly back against his seat and he realized they were driving up a steep incline. The path in front of them became brighter, and not just from the orange glow of lava emitting from their vehicles. Bright white light shone in the distance. Olly felt a surge of excitement swirling in the pit of his stomach. He was finally going to see Above. . .
“Not Martha Weller,” his mother said. “She never would’ve helped me.”
Olly turned to his mother for the answer, but she grabbed the radio and spoke to the vehicles behind them.
“We’re approaching the surface now,” she told them. “Once we’re Above, everyone has to be more careful and focused. Snow appears to be falling hard, so it won’t be difficult to get lost out here.”
Liv put the handset back and continued to stare forward.
“Who saved you then?” Olly asked.
Before his mother had the chance to answer, their vehicle emerged through the narrow gap of a partially collapsed tunnel. Olly’s eyes filled with White Nothingness for the first time and every other thought faded from his mind. . .
CHAPTER SEVEN
Isaac hurried across the Nothingness, putting as much space between him and the beasts’ lair as possible. The lava-filled fissures grew wider the farther he ran, steam hissing out of the ground on both sides of him. He had to pay closer attention for steam holes pockmarking the ground. Isaac was fairly certain he was walking in the right direction, that the Dome wasn’t far away, but he couldn’t ignore the awful feeling that something bad had happened.
Temperatures dropped and snow fell harder, making it impossible to see anything beyond ten feet. He was running out of time but continued to glance back for any sign of being followed. Luckily, the beasts from the cave either hadn’t spotted him or hadn’t cared enough to come after him. He didn’t know how long he’d trudged forward—it felt like hours in the cold but might not have even been one—before he finally spotted movement ahead, several silhouettes within the sheets of falling snow.
Isaac stopped and raised his arms, wanting to wave but wondering if he should. The only people that could be out there were Henry and his vicious teen followers, a group that had already tried to kill Isaac once and probably would again. Still, Isaac wondered if they might be easier to handle than the weather and the Nothingness. He approached slowly, cautiously, carefully considering how to handle the different kind of danger coming his way. But with each step forward, the silhouettes became clearer, bigger, less human-like. Isaac’s insides froze and it had nothing to do with the weather.
This time, he was certain the beasts were out there. Two. . . no, a trio of them, slowly lumbering in his general direction. He didn’t know if they’d spotted him; he also didn’t know how they could’ve circled around him. Unless I’ve been walking in circles, he thought in a panic, wondering if the cold had dulled his mind and his sense of direction. Isaac turned around. A surge of adrenaline told him to run, but he knew there was nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. Instead, he found a small mound of snow and dived to the ground beside it. As the beasts approached, he burrowed his way into the snow, trying to do so as discreetly as possible.
Isaac backed into the snowy hole he’d dug out, experiencing a new level of cold through his entire body. He was able to hide most of himself, but his head and upper torso stuck out. He carefully draped his white pelt over the exposed part of himself, peeking out to see massive furry legs of the beasts crunching their way through the snow. Their deep, heavy grunting became louder than the wind. Isaac tried to control his shivering, but it grew so violent he was certain the beasts would spot him.
As the beasts approached, Isaac slowly lowered his head into the snow, wondering if his head would end up in one of their mouths at any moment. Their crunching footsteps came to a stop nearby, their grunts joined by the sound of guttural sniffing. Isaac thought of Julietta and his life and how he came to be there, moments flashing through his mind that he hadn’t thought about for months and years. He held his breath and waited, silently swearing to whatever Higher Power that might exist that he would find Julietta if it was the last thing he ever did.
When the beasts’ footsteps started anew and faded into the distance, Isaac exhaled, fighting off the growing blackness at the corners of his vision. He stole a glance back to see the three beasts—undoubtedly Adolescents from the Dome’s enclosure—disappearing into the storm. Isaac scurried out of the hole, his body shaking uncontrollably. He stumbled forward, finding the beasts footprints, following them in the hopes that they’d lead directly to the Dome, though it couldn’t be a good sign if the beasts were no longer being held there.
But if they got out, others could have as well. . .
If someone had let the beasts out, there could be survivors; if the walls collapsed, at least he might have an easier path to reach the elevator leading Below, where he hoped to find Julietta. Neither option seemed ideal, but Isaac knew he wouldn’t survive much longer in the—
Heavy grunting approached in the form of a fourth beast appearing through the storm. Isaac froze. He glanced back at his hiding place in the snow, but it was too far to reach in time. Instead, he remained still, hoping the beast wouldn’t spot him, an unlikelihood since it was rushing in his direction, its strangely human-like eyes suddenly finding his, its mouth slowly opening to reveal razor-sharp teeth ready to—
The beast suddenly disappeared, its roar fading in a matter of seconds. Once Isaac got over the initial shock, he inched forward a few wobbly steps, craning his neck to see a large steam hole where the beast had just been running. Isaac didn’t know if there were more beasts ahead, but he had no choice than to push forward and hope for the best.
He didn’t have to walk much farther before the fissures on his left and right grew so wide and looped in front of him, joining together to form a massive crevasse that stretched hundreds of feet in all directions and dipped deeper into the ground. The crater glowed bright orange, its lava too hot to turn black and hard under the
onslaught of falling snow, which melted to water long before reaching the bottom. Isaac’s knowledge of lava was limited to the amount needed to heat and light certain sections of the City Below, but he doubted this sea of lava would solidify for a long time.
He also doubted the City Below or Dome existed any longer. Though most of the Nothingness looked exactly the same, this crater—or what had once existed hundreds of feet below—had to be the epicenter of whatever eruption had occurred. Isaac walked to the edge of the crater and collapsed to his knees. He expected to feel the softness of snow, but his knees hit solid ground. Snow had melted around the edges of the crater, the lava’s heat—not to mention the sulfuric stench—rising to the surface. Isaac doubted the White Nothingness had experienced such warmth for decades. He also doubted he would ever feel the cold again. As he stared over the edge and into the lava, he looked for anything he could recognize, any piece of Dome or outer wall, any sign of the elevator leading Below or the entire city underground. He saw nothing but orange, liquid fire that had undoubtedly engulfed every person he’d ever known.
Including Julietta. . .
Isaac closed his eyes and allowed gravity to start leaning his body forward. All he needed was a moment of weakness—a moment to plunge into the lava—to end his suffering, a moment he desperately wanted as he thought of Julietta being engulfed by lava. But Isaac inexplicably opened his eyes and looked behind him, steadying himself before he could fall, squinting to see through the heavy snowfall as twin beams of light shined in his direction. . .
Not for the first time, Julietta lost all strength in her arms. Henry slid out of her grip. She lunged to catch him but ended up collapsing in the snow beside him. Henry heaved deeply, lying on his side, making no attempt to stand up, muttering incoherently. The only word Julietta recognized him saying was ‘dying.’ When she tried to drag him back up, he sighed and his body tensed, able to help just enough to get to his feet. The two nearly stumbled into one of the cracks in the ground.
“Should’ve stayed with the others,” Henry whispered.
He was heavy, dead weight, and shaking violently, making every step more difficult than the last. The storm showed no sign of letting up. Julietta had no destination, and it wasn’t long before her mind grew as tired as her body. A single thought pushed away all memories of Isaac and the Dome and the idea of survival, a single thought that sucked all energy from her body.
Just stop. . . give up. . . lie down. . .
Henry continued to mumble, his words unintelligible, though Julietta understood the gist of what he was saying. When they fell again, Henry didn’t try to stand back up, even as Julietta yanked at his leaden arms.
“We. . . have to. . . keep. . . pushing,” she muttered. “Just. . . try. . .”
Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away once they began to freeze. She hated that he was giving up, that he was quitting; she hated even more that she cared. Just when she thought he might be dead, he spoke two words with utter clarity.
“Leave me.”
“I won’t,” she said, her voice unable to muster an ounce of conviction. “For once in your life, you’re going to show you aren’t worthless, that you don’t have to rely on everyone else to do your dirty work.”
She pulled at his arms, but he pulled back, fighting to stay down.
“I was coming to kill you, you know,” Henry said. “Just like I planned to kill Isaac. I should’ve fed both of you to the beasts. If you don’t leave me, I’ll take the first chance I get to push you into one of the lava cracks.”
Julietta gave him a final tug, dragging him a few feet in the snow. She unleashed a guttural cry before letting go, her body sapped of strength. She plopped in the snow beside him.
“Don’t make me keep going by myself,” she pleaded.
“Stay or go, it doesn’t matter,” Henry said weakly. “Both will lead to death.”
Julietta glared at him, her eyes narrowing. Without another word, she stood and plodded forward. Henry remained on the ground, watching her disappear into the snow ahead. Once he was alone, he struggled to his feet and turned around, hobbling back in the direction of the Dome. He knew he’d perish long before making it, but he needed to try getting to his people, getting to his home, getting to the place where he should’ve died in the first place. . .
Henry’s head drooped for much of his walk, his eyes focused on each labored step deep into the snow. When he finally glanced up, he thought he spotted movement in the storm. His heart leapt at the thought of his friends—even if only a single person—surviving to come this far, even if they’d all be doomed anyway. At least we could be doomed together. . .
A burst of energy let him rush exactly two steps before he lost his balance. Falling face-first into the snow, Henry scurried to his feet when he saw the form—no, forms—materializing through the snow. His stomach plunged and he allowed his body to do the same.
This is what I deserve, he thought as several beasts lumbered toward him.
He fell flat against the ground, nowhere else to hide, a trio of beasts coming closer and closer. He didn’t risk a single glance up; if he was going to be attacked and consumed, he didn’t want to see it coming. He expected to be devoured at any moment, so time seemed to slow. He thought of every single human he’d ever watched—most time with ghoulish excitement—put into the beasts’ enclosures. Please just make it quick. . .
Despite his certainty that violent death was imminent, the footsteps passed without stopping. For several minutes after the beasts faded, Henry remained still, not wanting to alert them to his presence. His body numb and his limbs weak, he managed to stand back up and look behind him, where the beasts’ footprints headed in Julietta’s direction. He considered calling out a warning but knew that would surely lead to the beasts’ return. He might’ve owed Julietta his life, but he was in no rush to give it up to save hers, especially since neither one of them was likely to survive the next hour or so.
It wasn’t long before the storm’s howling winds were joined by another sound, one that stopped Henry in his tracks and made him wish he hadn’t lived long enough to hear: screaming, undoubtedly Julietta in her final, awful moments. He suddenly had trouble taking a single breath and allowed weakness to overtake his body. He collapsed onto his back, the coldness beneath him soft and inviting, staring straight up as falling snow began to cover his body. . .
CHAPTER EIGHT
Emma groaned with pleasure, having never felt such glorious warmth, comfort and quiet. She’d never experienced such clarity in a dream. As her mind slowly focused beyond physical comfort, the distant sound of howling wind reached her ears, muffled in a way she’d never heard before. She inhaled deeply and caught the faint smell of dirt, a scent that made her think of The Second. . . and one particular person from The Second, a person who had chosen to leave her behind in the City Below.
He didn’t leave me behind, her waking mind realized. I chose to stay.
Emma wanted to keep her eyes closed and drift back into the soft darkness of slumber, but her mind continued to waken as she thought of the people with whom she’d chosen to remain in the City Below, people that had all since disappeared from her life, left far behind in a tidal wave of flowing lava. . .
She sat bolt upright, her eyes snapping open and sweeping across a small room that held little more than a table, chair and the comfortable bed in which she now found herself. Thin beams of light shined through slatted blinds covering a small window, brilliant white light that had filled her eyes the last time she’d been awake.
Is this The Mountain?
Emma hurried off the bed and looked out the window, where she had a perfect view of the Nothingness from ground level. She shook her head. She didn’t know exactly what The Mountain was, but she was certain this wasn’t it. She followed the light to a small table and realized it wasn’t empty. A glass of water and a small plate of assorted vegetables sat beside a folder. Her stomach rumbled and her mouth w
as dry, but it was curiosity for the folder that drew her attention.
Don’t allow yourself to become distracted. . .
She rushed to the door and tried the handle, fully expecting to find it locked. When it creaked open to a small hallway, Emma looked to the left—finding another door almost within reach—before turning right. She tiptoed down the hall, finding openings to several rooms along the way, with the largest near the end. It contained one entire wall filled with bookshelves. Across from that was a large chair that was currently occupied. Love’s soft, high-pitched snoring filled the room, though his face remained hidden, tucked into the crook of his exposed right wing.
Emma scanned her surroundings for a weapon, hoping to find anything she could use to attack her kidnapper. Or is he my savior? Did he save me from the same fiery death that destroyed everyone else in the City Below? Crushing guilt drained her of all adrenaline, but she didn’t know if that guilt was a result of surviving the volcano eruption or considering an attack on the Sky Person. She stared at Love for several minutes, shuffling forward quietly, noting how strangely beautiful he was. Not only had he rescued her from Below, but he’d brought her here—wherever here actually is—to get out of the frozen elements of the Nothingness. She didn’t know his ultimate reason for helping—though she didn’t like his constant mentioning of the Descendant and the true Jonas family—but she doubted he’d risked so much to harm her. Still, Love had shown no indication of letting her go, and Emma wasn’t about to accept the role of prisoner.
She tiptoed to the front door and grabbed the handle, feeling how cold it was. She stopped from opening it to the cold world. I have nowhere to go, she thought, looking down at her single layer of clothing, especially dressed like this.
Emma turned and scurried through the small house, finding food in the kitchen and a small ladder tucked within an alcove in the hallway. She climbed the ladder to a large section of roof covered in green glass. The smell of dirt filled her nose, undoubtedly the scent she’d inhaled earlier. It reminded her of The Second and Chad, two thoughts that made her frown, two memories she’d never see again with her own eyes. She focused on the small garden, which was in surprisingly good shape, recently tended, several rows of fruits and vegetables in various stages of growth. Considering how often Love had spoken of The Mountain, Emma was surprised he’d spent so much time in this house creating such a fertile garden.