The Mountain

by Kevin George

  Walda shrugged. “He still talks like he cares about the guards, but when I look at him. . . after the Board forced him to take an Aviary injection after joining them. . . I don’t know what to believe. Quentin is trying to keep the Board patient after halting the Aviary experiments, but like you said, Love is taking longer than expected to return.”

  “If he ever returns,” Damon couldn’t help but add.

  “He will,” Walda said with utter certainty, “and he will have the Descendant, and then the Board can plan for the future interests of everyone in The Mountain.”

  “If you’re so certain that’ll happen, why don’t you rush off to the restricted level?” Damon asked. “Nobody really guards the place. You can go there right now and find Him and wake Him and let Him know the grand future He’d come back for is soon upon us.”

  Walda crossed her arms. “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Why? Afraid He doesn’t actually exist? Afraid He’s not living the good life in some secret Mountain room?” Damon asked.

  “This shouldn’t be spoken of,” she said.

  “Not even by the two highest-ranking guards in The Mountain?”

  Walda glanced behind them before leaning closer. “For someone that claims not to believe in Him, you sure speak of Him often,” she said. “Whether you believe or not—whether He exists or not—the Board and humans agree in their belief of Him. I know your father wasn’t a believer, but he was smart enough to know not to talk about it.”

  Damon was about to snap that he was nothing like his father, but another noise in the distance grabbed his attention. He turned toward the back of the hangar and stared into the shadows.

  “Did you hear something back there?”

  Walda looked toward the darkness but shook her head.

  “It’s difficult justifying you as second-in-command when you have so little control over your paranoia,” she said. “You’ve hidden yourself down here for years because you’re afraid of not just people outside The Mountain, but those inside, too. Now you’re hearing ghosts?”

  “It’s not just people in The Mountain that worry me,” Damon said brazenly.

  Walda’s eyes widened, her tough exterior cracking. Damon realized he’d pushed things too far.

  “Are you. . . crazy?” she hissed, shaking her head. “You can’t say those things and expect to get away with it. If anyone else overheard. . .”

  “Overheard the truth?” Damon asked, his voice no louder than a whisper.

  “Humans and the Board have coexisted for years despite our physical differences, and we’ll continue to do so,” Walda said loudly and clearly. “And whether you wasted your time voting or not, Quentin Bowie was selected by his peers to represent us on the Board. You’ll need to accept that if you want to remain in good standing with the Board and stay here long enough to witness all the big things about to happen.”

  Damon squeezed the stock of his rifle tightly. He’d almost forgotten he was still holding it but suddenly had to fight the urge to raise it and aim it at his superior’s chest. He took a deep breath, trying—and failing—to suppress the suspicion that threatened to overtake his mind.

  “What makes you say that?” he asked, his voice calm yet shaky. “Has the Board mentioned replacing me as second-in-command? Do they prefer Elias? Have they asked for potential test subjects? Don’t they know how much of my life I’ve given to protecting these vehicles? Protecting our only means of escape?”

  Walda snorted. “Escape to where?”

  But Damon ignored her and continued to babble. “Don’t they know I protect The Mountain’s only point of entry for intruders?”

  Walda pointed to the open doorway and raging blizzard outside. “Once upon a time, there were massive armies that commanded countless soldiers armed with weaponry we couldn’t imagine. Even those people couldn’t have broken through the blast door, let alone the mindless beasts dying off in the cold or the underground gophers that could attack us with what? Sticks and stones? You think it’s okay now to talk crazy because a few harmless wanderers show up?”

  Damon started to raise his gun, but Walda pulled her own and aimed it at his chest. Damon released his rifle, which clattered to the hangar floor, and stepped forward until her weapon was pressed against his chest.

  “This is my thanks for dedicating my life to guarding this hangar? To accepting the duty of protecting every life within The—”

  “You hide here because it’s where you feel safest,” Walda said, stepping back and lowering her gun. “You frighten people away when they come down here, which is almost never. You’re supposed to be my second-in-command, but most guards wouldn’t recognize you if you passed them in the hallways.

  “You need to learn from Elias,” Walda continued, causing Damon’s skin to crawl. “He has the respect of every human in The Mountain. He’s always open to learning new aspects of security. Maybe you could leave this place and come to the security level, learn some of the important systems that make this place work. Or maybe you could cross-train on the remaining drones, learn to perform repairs on them so we can fly them farther from The Mountain to see what else—and who else—is out there. Maybe you could gain The Board’s trust and be granted access to the secret level so you could be closer to Him and feel His presence in—”

  “I want nothing to do with any of that,” Damon snapped.

  Walda sighed. She peered through the open doorway, finally spotting the security vehicles among the blizzard, still far away but slowly approaching. She expected Damon to complain about the guards barely knowing how to drive in bad weather, but for once she was glad that he was focused on himself.

  “You might want to take some of your infinite quiet time to reevaluate your future here,” Walda said. Her walkie crackled to life and she held up a finger to quiet Damon’s inevitable retort. “I’m in the hangar with Moretti, going over protocols with him and awaiting our. . .”—she stared directly into Damon’s eyes—“. . . potential visitors.”

  “We’ve received word from the highest level,” a frantic voice reported.

  “More problems with the remaining test subjects? Or one of the hosts?” Walda asked.

  “Hosts? That’s how you refer to the women you’ve allowed the Board to abuse for their experiments?” Damon asked.

  Walda turned away, waving her hand to shut him up. For years, the allocation of fertile human females for use as test subjects had been a divisive subject among residents of The Mountain. Still, Walda and Damon both knew he didn’t care what happened to anyone but himself.

  “Not the test subjects, ma’am,” said the guard on the other end of the walkie. “A blur has been spotted among the clouds. The guards on duty seem to think it’s approaching through the storm.”

  Walda turned to Damon and smiled. Without another word, she rushed toward the staircase. “I’m on my way,” Walda said.

  Damon frowned. A part of him was glad to see her go, but he refused to let her leave with the upper hand. He hurried to catch up, but Walda stopped him from getting in the next word.

  “It can only be Love returning with the Descendant,” she said with the utmost satisfaction. “How about that for faith?”

  “You don’t know what it could be,” Damon said. “Maybe the invaders are launching a simultaneous assault from the ground and sky at the same—”

  “Enough!” Walda said. “I’ve covered for you long enough. Come with me now, end your dismissal of our beliefs, welcome Love and the Descendant. Send word to the guards to put our visitors in a cell for now; we’ll deal with them later. If you don’t do any of that, I’ll be forced to go to the Board and tell them my decision to install Elias as my second-in-charge.”

  Damon glared, but Walda gave him no such look in return. She no longer appeared angry or annoyed; she’d conceded the battle but would ultimately win the war unless Damon agreed to change. He’d worried this moment would come one day. He always swore to himself that he’d stroll out the hangar door
and into the snowy, barren world if he ever had to swear allegiance to a belief he didn’t share. But when he turned to the open door and felt a stiff chill seeping through his face mask, he realized he’d been lying to himself all along.

  “Fine,” he said, trying not to focus on the grin that spread across Walda’s face.

  Without another word, she started up the stairs, not giving Damon a moment to radio the guards and pass along their orders. He raced up the first two steps, raising the walkie to his mouth, stopping before he pressed the transmit button. He looked back toward the open hangar door but did not see the vehicles. The noise didn’t come from there anyway, he told himself, his eyes wandering toward the darkness, his mind unable to suppress an itch of trouble.

  “I. . . I’ll be up soon,” Damon said. “I have to check on something. . . for security of The Mountain.”

  Walda didn’t stop to look back. “At least take the mask off when the guards show up. Nobody will respect you if you don’t show your face.”

  Damon skulked toward the back of the hangar, his heart pumping harder as he entered the darkness. He so desperately wanted to be proven right, but he didn’t make it past a few covered vehicles when he slowed down, the excitement in his chest changing to a sinking feeling of regret. He stood in place and listened but heard nothing from the back.

  “You’re making it up,” he told himself. “You want there to be trouble so you don’t have to. . .”

  He glanced back at the stairs, turning his eyes even higher, his mind seeing the stairs stretching beyond the hangar. . . beyond the first level. . . up to places in The Mountain he hadn’t seen for years. When his heartbeat started racing again, he realized it was caused by fear.

  Fear of change, he knew with certainty. The same fear Father felt but would never admit. The same fear that ensured he worked in the highest level for years instead of taking a leadership position in Mountain security. After everything our ancestors did, Father hid for most of his life and now I’m doing the same. At least the other guards feared him and the Board respected him. I elicit neither feeling, and Father is no longer around to protect me.

  “Make your own change, or have your life changed for you,” he said.

  But he no sooner started back toward the stairs when he heard the sound again, a scurrying, this time louder and closer and unmistakably clear, unmistakably coming from the darkest section of the hangar. He whipped the gun off his shoulder and held it up, ready to fire at the first sign of movement. Common sense told him to keep any intruder alive so he or she could spill the details about a possible coordinated attack on The Mountain. But the idea of someone sneaking around his home—causing him to lose his standing in the security force—filled him with such rage that he nearly fired random shots into the shadows.

  Damon pressed himself against the side of a tarped vehicle and proceeded forward, slowing as he rounded the corner, his finger putting gentle pressure on the trigger. He found only darker darkness. He repeated this several times, each time expecting to find someone but each time finding emptiness. Still, he continued to hear scurrying and pressed farther into the hangar, reaching darkened depths he hadn’t explored for years. He expected a noticeable chill but felt just the opposite. Warmth filled the back section, and the temperatures seemed to increase with every vehicle he walked around. His face burned hot beneath the face mask. Damon began to reach for the mask when he spotted a blur of movement ahead.

  He stopped so suddenly that he nearly lost his grip on the rifle. He fumbled desperately for the trigger but didn’t get a chance to pull it when he stopped and exhaled deeply, blowing out all of his fear and anxiety. Not only did he hear scurrying on the floor ahead of him, he also heard the squeaking of rats. A lot of rats. At first glimpse, he thought there had to be a dozen or so. He stepped closer and saw there were more like two or three dozen, possibly more. Damon had seen a few rats in the past, but never more than one at a time.

  He aimed the gun at them but knew he couldn’t waste ammo. Still, the sight enraged him—especially since he might’ve lost his standing with Mountain leadership—and he lashed out, stomping on any rat that didn’t scatter quickly enough. Damon crushed rat after rat, unleashing pent up frustration, looking at their dead little bodies with a mixture of disgust and hunger. Fresh meat was in short supply in The Mountain, and he hoped that if he killed enough, the resulting feast would be enough to get back in Walda’s good graces.

  Figuring the rats would scurry back into whatever warm hole they’d emerged from, Damon was surprised to see them streaming toward the cold front section of hangar. He was about to follow them when he felt another blast of heat coming from the darkness. He rounded the final vehicle before reaching the back wall, where he encountered the grated opening to the underground tunnel. He’d never entered the tunnel before, but not because he’d been warned not to or because he’d been told it led to an underground maze, out of which he’d never find his way. No, he’d never entered the tunnel because the metallic bars had always blocked his path, and he hadn’t wanted to destroy anything that had been in the hangar before him.

  Now, one of the grate’s bars was missing, allowing a stream of warm air to seep out. Damon scanned the hangar floor, wondering if the hot air could’ve melted the bar free, wondering if time and rust could’ve been enough to break it apart, even wondering if the bar had always been missing without him noticing. None of those scenarios felt right. He stepped toward the warm air, intending on taking a quick peek inside the tunnel, if only to search for clues about what could’ve happened, or who could’ve come from inside there, or where the tunnel might possibly lead.

  But he never reached it. He barely took one step when he felt a piece of metal pressed against his lower back. In an instant—an instant too late—he sensed the presence of someone directly behind him. Damon froze in place.

  “Drop the gun, take off the mask and get to your knees,” a gravelly voice whispered in his ear.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Damon lowered his gun but did not let go. He raised his other hand, reaching for the top of his face mask, which he carefully pulled off and tossed to the floor. His face felt a momentary chill, free from its wool covering, before the heat of tunnel air washed over his skin, causing sweat to trickle down his face.

  “Where are the others?” Damon asked, lowering to a single knee.

  “I’m alone,” the voice said, “and I don’t want trouble. I’m only here for Sally.”

  Damon shook his head. “I know nobody named Sally, but I’m not exactly the most popular guy around here.”

  Damon tensed when he felt the metal slide up to the back of his neck. The intruder pushed the metal so firmly that Damon’s head tilted forward. In turn, Damon gripped his gun tighter, glad the intruder didn’t seem to notice.

  “I said I didn’t want trouble. That doesn’t mean I won’t make it unless you bring me to Sally,” the voice said.

  Damon nodded. “Okay, okay, but you’ll have to give me more information. Is Sally one of the host wombs?”

  “H. . . host wombs?” the voice asked.

  He doesn’t know about the host. He’s not from The Mountain, Damon thought with certainty.

  “Is she part of the other invasion? Those in the vehicles? Or those from. . . the sky?” Damon asked, hoping to ascertain as much information as possible to bring to Walda. He wondered if she was walking into a trap at that very moment in the upper level, a thought that filled him with equal parts concern and hope.

  “I don’t know anything about an invasion,” the voice said. “But I know Sally is here. I heard her over the radio. . . I heard her say Mountain. And the tunnel. . . I read it ends at The Mountain. . . and this is where it ended.”

  “You’re not from here. Tell me your name. . . tell me where you’re from,” Damon said. “Maybe I could help if I knew more.” He felt the metal press into him again, but this time he braced himself. “Please, put your weapon down. I mean you no harm. The only way I
might be able to help find Sally is if we can talk about it. . . about her.”

  Damon expected a bullet to the spine at any moment, but the push of metal against his back eased. Keeping his hands raised, he turned slowly and looked into the eyes of a young man about his same size, with a similar scraggle of hair covering his face. The ‘gun’ Damon assumed to be pressing into him was nothing more than the rusted piece of metal pried off the grate. Without his mask, Damon was careful to hide his smile.

  “My name is Chad,” the young man said. “I’m from the City Below, but that’s not where I just came from. I’ve been living in an ISU for months. . . I was tricked into staying there. . . tricked into leaving Sally. But I heard her voice over the radio. . . her voice and another’s. . . someone mentioned coming to The Mountain. She has to be here.”

  Chad’s eyes flitted from one side to the other, crazed in a way that made Damon nervous. Damon couldn’t tell if this was an act, if this was Chad’s way of distracting him, especially with the hangar door wide open and blurs of movement coming from the clouds. Damon shuffled an inch back; Chad didn’t seem to notice. When he slowly reached back and Chad didn’t notice that either, Damon scurried back and around the nearest vehicle, whipping the strap of his rifle from his shoulder.

  Chad didn’t come after him. Gun raised, Damon stepped back around the corner, where Chad brandished the rusted metal like a club. Damon grinned. Damn fool doesn’t know when he’s outmatched.

  “Come with me,” Damon said.

  Chad shook his head. “I only want my friend, that’s it.”

  “You’re not in position to make demands,” Damon said. “Besides, I’m not falling for your ruse. You must be some sort of advanced scout for a larger invasion, but you’re too late. The others have already begun showing up and we’re stopping them as we speak. I even gave the order to have some of your friends killed.”

  Chad’s eyes went wide. “Sally?”

  “Enough about Sally!” Damon said, waving the gun at him.