by Kevin George
The Tunnelers looked at one another, nodding before releasing him. They scanned their surroundings and Isaac did the same; no sign of Julietta or anyone else. Isaac couldn’t ignore the probability that she’d perished during the eruption. Even harder to ignore was the thought of Julietta dying by Henry’s command long ago. That thought was enough to send heat rushing through him. As the other healers dispersed back to their respective vehicles, Isaac exploded forward, skipping through the snow in a dozen bounds before reaching Henry.
The healers carrying Henry spotted Isaac at the last moment but couldn’t avoid the collision. The two women holding Henry’s arms managed not to drop him; the two men holding Henry’s legs lost their grip and were knocked aside. Isaac landed atop one of Henry’s legs, a mild impact at best but still enough to cause Henry’s eyes to open. He unleashed an agonized scream that snapped him to full consciousness. His eyes fluttered and his screams turned to whimpers, but he focused on Isaac long enough to recognize him.
“Herder?” he asked weakly.
“Did you kill her? Did you kill Julietta?” Isaac yelled.
Isaac tried to crawl closer to him—intent on wrapping his hands around Henry’s throat until he told him everything—but the Tunnelers recovered quickly and held him back. Isaac heard them yelling but was too focused on Henry to hear anything they were saying. As he was being dragged away—roughly, at that—the others hurried around Henry. But Henry stared at Isaac and shook his head over and over, finding the strength to call out over the wind.
“I never hurt her, I swear. She was alive the last time I saw her.”
“The last time you saw her at the Dome?” Isaac yelled, trying—yet failing—to pull away from his captors.
Isaac heard the crack of his skull a split second before he felt the pain or saw his vision flash to black. The next thing he knew, he was face-first in the snow. He fought back the pain and breathed deeply, his lungs burning with cold, desperate to stay awake. He summoned what little strength he had and crawled in the snow, swiping at the legs of the Tunnelers gathering around him.
“. . . stay back if you know what’s good for. . .”
“. . . should just leave him to freeze out. . .”
“. . . never should have put ourselves in danger for this worthless. . .”
Isaac had so much he wanted to explain—so many stories about how he was the good guy and how Henry was the villain—but he didn’t care about any of that right now. Inside of his skull burned with agony, but he somehow found the strength to keep his head up and keep crawling forward, even as others kept pushing him down. Isaac shook his head and watched others pick up Henry and carry him away. He was certain his nemesis would escape, but Henry called out ‘no’ and insisted he be put down. He hobbled toward Isaac, his face etched in anguish, finally collapsing in the snow a few feet away, clutching at his leg and crying out.
“I’m sorry,” Henry said. “I’m so sorry.”
The other Tunnelers backed away from Isaac and didn’t stop him crawling forward to grab Henry by the pelt.
“Sorry for what?” Isaac growled.
“We escaped the Dome together. . . Julietta and I. . . barely got away before the ground swallowed everything. . . and everyone,” he said. “She saved my life. . . and then I saved hers. . . but. . . but. . .”
“Where is she?” Isaac yelled.
“I was slowing her down. . . I insisted she leave me. . . that she keep pushing forward,” Henry said, his eyes turning to empty Nothingness ahead.
Isaac scrambled to his feet and stared into the storm, desperate to spot any sign of her. He didn’t. “Which way did she go?” he demanded. When Henry’s face skewed in pain and he shook his head, Isaac reached down and lifted him several inches off the snowy ground. The healers stepped closer but didn’t stop Isaac from shaking Henry. “Tell me which way she went!”
“I. . . I’m sorry,” Henry babbled. “Soon after she left. . . it was just a few minutes. . . she was just out of sight. . . they came.”
A chill stabbed Isaac in the chest. He lost his grip on Henry, who fell back into the snow. Isaac knew right away who ‘they’ were.
“Beasts,” Isaac said.
Henry nodded.
“Three of them,” Isaac said.
Henry nodded again, this time surprised. Isaac had no doubt these beasts were the same ones he’d barely avoided. He couldn’t bear the thought of admitting this aloud.
“They were coming my way. . . I thought they were going to get me. . . I dove into the snow. . . they must not have spotted me,” Henry said. “And then they were gone. . . going toward where she was going. . . I heard screams. . . and then nothing. It wasn’t far from here.”
Isaac collapsed to his knees but didn’t stay down long. Henry’s story ended with him apologizing over and over, at which time the healers hurried to pull him back up. Isaac looked into the distance and thought he spotted something on the ground. He rushed away, even as Tunnelers called out to him. A few attempted to intercept him, but Isaac swatted them aside. The parked vehicles faded into the storm behind him—Isaac knew there was a risk of them leaving without him—but nothing was going to stop him from reaching what he thought he saw.
And then, suddenly, he stood a few feet from the faint outline of tracks in the snow. Larger beast tracks were spread out, three distinct sets, all of which followed a fainter set of smaller, human-sized footprints. Isaac raced after them, afraid of what he might find, stopping a few minutes later to stare at a large section of broken snow where there’d obviously been some sort of struggle. Instinct told him to look the other way, but he searched even closer for any sign of blood. He felt the smallest hint of relief to see only whiteness.
The blood could’ve been covered by now, he thought, looking up at snow falling heavier from above. Just ahead, the beast tracks started anew, joined by drag marks that Isaac imagined being made by Julietta. Or her corpse. . .
Afraid of what he might find yet determined to learn the truth—even if it cost him his life—Isaac kept pushing forward, kept following the tracks. But only a few minutes passed before the tracks began to fade. Less than a minute after that, they disappeared completely, blown over by whipping winds and heavy snowfall. Isaac sat in the snow, frustrated by defeat, his chest numb to the idea of losing Julietta yet again. He didn’t budge, even when the first few vehicles drove by less than twenty feet away. When he sensed one of them stopping, he didn’t look at it before waving it away.
A few seconds later, he heard the crunch of approaching footsteps. Isaac shook his head and yelled into the wind.
“Leave me! I’m not going!”
“I didn’t leave you alone after your parents died, and I don’t intend to do so now,” a familiar woman’s voice called out.
Isaac’s breath caught in his throat. He was almost too afraid to turn and look in case his ears had deceived him. When the footsteps crunched closer and a shadow loomed behind him, he turned and looked up at a person dressed in heavy clothing, just like the rest of the Tunnelers he’d seen so far. But the face looking out at him was the same one he’d seen since he was a kid.
“Get up and get into the vehicle,” Martha Weller snapped at him. “Now! It’s too cold to be out here.”
Martha didn’t wait for his response before she turned and headed back toward the vehicle parked nearby. Isaac hurried after her.
CHAPTER TEN
Julietta sensed darkness before opening her eyelids. Her vision blurry, it took several minutes to focus on the dim light filtering in from somewhere behind her. The echo of distant wind reached her ears and a few snowflakes fluttered onto her face. Even though the ground beneath her was hard, Julietta felt all-encompassing warmth and security, her body nearly engulfed within thick, comfortable fur.
I must be bundled tightly in my pelt, she told herself, a single thought shining through the haze of her mind.
Another moment passed before realizing she shouldn’t be that warm, and another
moment to recall her lost moments before unconsciousness: on the snowy surface. . . in the middle of the blizzard. . . stalked by three beasts. . . running in deep snow. . . her vision shutting down as quickly as her body. . . her legs going slack as she collapsed into the snow and. . .
Passed out? Is that what happened to me?
She squeezed her eyes shut, intending to rub them but finding her arms pinned to her sides. Part of her wanted to keep her eyes closed and drift back to sleep, drift away from whatever predicament into which she’d gotten herself. But when she opened up and found her face inches from a shock of white fur—white fur that wasn’t her pelt—she knew exactly what that meant. If she’d had any doubt, the deep, rhythmic snorting in front and behind her confirmed she was snuggled in the middle of two sleeping beasts.
Julietta’s heart pounded so hard she was certain it would wake both beasts. Her breaths came in short, raspy gasps. When she tried to breathe more quietly, she only succeeded in opening her mouth wider, sucking in several strands of fur that nearly made her choke. She slowly backed away from one beast, only to bump into the one behind her. It was more unsettling to think that her back had been exposed to a beast, which could’ve chomped down on her neck without her seeing it coming.
It could’ve done that long ago, she thought, common sense battling through rising panic. It could’ve eaten me on the surface when I passed out; it could’ve eaten me any time since then.
She turned slowly and couldn’t help feeling a degree of shock coming face to face with the other beast, its hot, putrid breath engulfing her. Still, she stared into its strangely human face, its mouth too small to hold its huge teeth stained red, the sight of which reminded her that the longer she stayed here, the likelier it would become that her blood would become part of that stain. Julietta eventually lifted her head slowly, turning from side to side until spotting a tunnel with faint white light shining in the distance.
Above, she thought. She scanned the tunnel, realizing it wasn’t the same one where she’d rested with Henry. The beasts snorted and stirred as she stood, but both remained asleep. She looked deeper into the tunnel and wondered if she should risk going that way, if maybe the tunnel led somewhere else. Avoiding the never-ending blizzard on the surface seemed wise, but she’d have no source of light in the tunnel and no idea where it led, not to mention how the City Below—and everything she’d once known about that life—had been swallowed by liquid fire. And there’s no way Isaac would be down there. . .
Common sense told her he was gone, but she refused to accept that. Tiptoeing quietly around the beasts, she exhaled long and deep once she stood several feet away. She tightened her pelt as temperatures dropped with each step she neared Above. Like the other tunnel she’d been in, this one had a light dusting of snow blowing into the opening. But the snow wasn’t so deep inside—and she’d barely taken two steps on it—to suddenly create such a loud crunching sound nearby.
Julietta stopped in her tracks but still heard footsteps growing louder as they approached. She saw a light shadow first, followed immediately by the third lumbering beast approaching through the snow. It paused upon spotting her, rising up to its feet for a moment, lowering back to all fours while grunting. Julietta raised her hands and retreated several steps as the beast stalked forward.
“Please,” Julietta told the beast, lowering her voice when she heard it echoing behind her, “I never meant you harm. . . any of you.”
The beast snorted in response, its eyes never leaving her. Julietta hoped meeting its eye contact would keep it calm, but that became impossible to do once she heard other footsteps behind her. She glanced back to see the other two beasts, awake, one of them crouched a few feet back, the other standing tall, stretching its long arms so high its claws scraped the rocky ceiling. Julietta stopped and sighed, her body exhausted and famished, her mind foggy and numb, her spirit battered. She wondered if the fatal attack would come from in front or from behind, but any sense of fear or panic faded from her mind. . .
Julietta closed her eyes and thought of Isaac, wanting him to be the final memory she’d ever have. Instinctively, she hummed a song she hadn’t heard since she was a little girl. When she hummed for so long that she reached the end, she finally opened her eyes and saw that none of the three beasts had moved an inch. The sudden silence was only interrupted by wind. The beast in front of her snorted, clearly agitated. It inched forward, prompting Julietta to hum again.
She hummed so long that her legs grew tired and her body grew cold standing close to the surface. She didn’t know if moving would upset the beasts, but she couldn’t stand in place forever. Turning toward the beasts behind her, she took a few slow steps, watching their eyes follow her every move. Continuing to hum, she proceeded farther into the tunnel, finally stopping to lean against a wall close to where she’d woken. She lowered to a seated position and watched the beasts approach. In unison, all three beasts lay flat on their stomachs in front of her, lowering their heads near her feet. When one inched forward to place its head on Julietta’s lap, the other two followed until she was pinned down, humming the entire time, taking turns rubbing and patting their furry heads.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“There really is nothingness out here.”
After riding in silence long after emerging from underground tunnels, Olly was the first to talk. Irving and Liv had seen Above plenty of times, but they’d still stared in awe as their driver sped across the snow. When the blizzard conditions eased and there was a break in the clouds, all four stared up at the Great Blue. Oliver scanned the skies for any sign of Emma and the Sky Person who’d taken her. He saw no sign of them and couldn’t keep the memory of what happened in the Main Tunnel to himself any longer.
“What can you tell me about Sky People?” Olly asked, leaning forward to look at Irving next to his mother.
“Nothing I didn’t tell you and your friends on our first trip through the tunnels,” Irving said. “Only stories passed down from generations, great battles between them and the Domers.”
Olly’s mother interjected with knowledge she’d learned from surviving generations of The Fourth. She explained how the Dome was supposed to be the first of many built on the surface; how the world turned to snow quicker than anyone imagined and time ran out before more Domes were built; how the Domes were supposed to be larger, more efficient versions of ISUs (whatever they are, Olly thought without interrupting); how the City Below and its people were cut off from the rest of One Corp; how not much was known about the Sky People or how they were created or where they came from.
“But Irving is right: a popular tale among Tunnelers was how Sky People stayed away from the Dome so they wouldn’t be attacked,” Liv continued. “I suppose whoever ended up living in the Dome was wary of outsiders, not to mention the strange animals apparently roaming in these parts Above.”
Olly knew about them but said nothing. Nobody seemed to know anything of use about the Sky People or where Emma may have been taken. Olly turned back to the window and stared at the outside world. He wanted to remain quiet—wanted to seem indifferent about his mother and her recent history—but couldn’t stop from blurting out the answer to the question he’d asked before reaching Above.
“It was the Uptons, wasn’t it?”
He stared forward but sensed his mother nodding.
“Bronwen, specifically. When she saw the bruises your father inflicted on me, we had a quiet moment to talk while the men were meeting. Back then, all section leaders traveled to One with small entourages, and the Uptons were no different. After Bronwen gave me a disguise and I chopped my hair short, it was up to me to sneak out of the palace and join their group as they were leaving.
“I still remember that day, I still remember the strange looks I received from a few of the palace guards, but none questioned me as I walked out on the only life I’d ever known,” she said, her eyes staring into the distance.
“As you walked out on me,” Olly said, stealing a
glance at her.
His mother turned to him with a frown, as did Irving and the driver. Olly looked away before any of the three could see pain in his eyes.
“I wanted to—”
“I know,” Olly interrupted. “You already told me that.”
Olly could hear the disappointment in his mother’s sigh. He expected that sigh to please him, but it didn’t.
“Bronwen risked her life to save mine; I doubt Alistair Bronwen knew about it, or if he knew about the hidden tunnel beneath his home that connected The Second to The Fourth. Of course I knew your father was no true Lord, but I didn’t realize how he was so full of sh--. . .”—Liv stopped herself with a snicker—“. . . I didn’t realize how he knew what he knew until I got to The Fourth and was shown some of their equipment capable of breaking into his video signals.”
“The great and powerful Lord and Jonas,” Olly said, snorting.
“I didn’t realize till I was gone that he couldn’t see anything happening unless he was in his precious Lord’s room,” Liv said. She reached over and grabbed Olly’s hand. He started to pull away but didn’t do so with any real force, allowing her to hold on. “Had I known then what I know now, I would’ve risked coming to get you before I left. I would’ve at least explained myself to you. . . at least written a note. But at that time, I just. . . couldn’t.”
Olly finally pulled his hand free, turning so far to the side that his mother spoke to the back of his head.
“You couldn’t, and you didn’t.”
“I still remember the last time I saw you,” she said. “I was in disguise and was sure I’d be caught, but I needed to see you, I needed to see you were okay. You were with Walter Capshaw, learning to fight. I was so close to staying behind, but I knew your father would never harm you.”
“You don’t know what he did to me,” Olly said. He wanted to mention the Tunnel War that had been started to kill him, or Queen Raefaline’s attempt on his life, or the way his father let him into the tunnel knowing he’d been unlikely to survive. Instead, Olly said nothing.