Aquifer (17 page)

S
earchlights from the north crisscross the water, stealing my sight. I shield my eyes as my vision becomes one big sunspot, and wait. Another boat has joined ours.

“Who’s with you?” The voice from the other craft is gruff, nervous.

“Just my two children. I’ve been gone a week between sleeper assignments. I was to report to New Pert before a stint in Sydney.” Seward rips the arrow’s shaft from the seat. “Why was I fired upon?”

“The world is backward. The arrow came from the rebellion. You are fortunate — I’ve not seen a boat survive the river route for some time.” I squint into the light, and he continues. “Yet it is fortunate that you did not first report to Sydney. That city has fallen.” He looks us over once more. “Follow me.”

Our escort doesn’t wait for our answer, but powers quickly toward the downtown district. We follow, easing up to the remains of the Great Swan Pier. As children Lendi and I
splashed around its support beams. As teens we secretly discussed our desired matches, though jumpy Lendi never did feel comfortable with the issue.

I tie up the boat and, together with Talya, Seward, and our escort, run onto shore.

Wire, coiled and barbed, stretches far in either direction. Three rows of clumsily built fencing rise, each one higher than the one fronting it. Behind those twisted lines stands a ten-foot, hole-riddled cinder block wall.

“We hemmed ourselves in. About a three-mile diameter of the city is all we control. You cannot remain outside.” He whistles. From above the wall, three heads appear, vanish, and then reappear hoisting a wooden ramp. They toss a rope secured to one end of the span over the fences and our escort pulls it taut. Slowly backing up, he and Seward draw the length of the ramp down onto the beach.

“Hurry. Hurry!” our escort urges, though I see no danger where we stand. With the ramp in place, he scampers up and over the wall; Seward follows, and then Talya.

I take one last look around the inlet. Distant shouts fill the night.

“What have we become?”

Nothing that can’t be restored
. The voice pounds in my head.

“Well” — I shake my head — “you can speak, but you sure can’t hear. New Pert falls apart.”

I step from sand to wood, and the world explodes in heat and light. The earth drops away; am I falling or flying? It feels like a journey through the stratus, except that pain rips my body. And then suddenly it doesn’t, and I feel nothing. Moments pass, silent moments when the ring in my ears eclipses all other sounds. I’m lost in a vacuum, and the world spins, though I’m
quite certain I’m on my stomach. I force open my eyes and roll, peering through dust and flames.

The ramp is no more.

“Lu — Radney!” Faintly, my name finds me. “Are you there, boy?”

I can’t see Seward, and my head feels light. Angry voices approach. When I call on my legs to move, they don’t respond.
Talya! Was she over the wall?
I claw forward, feel strong hands on my back, and remember no more.

My eyelids open lazily. I lie on my back, this much I know. I wriggle my fingers, my toes. I still own them.

It is dark, the world shrouded in shadow. The scent of burning wood surrounds me and smoke wafts over me. Wherever this place is, it burns.

Then the smoke clears and my vision sharpens. Twenty feet away I see a crackling fire, its light dancing on the ceiling. Shadows huddle around it, shoulder to shoulder, offering their fingers for warmth. I count twenty bodies, speaking in soft tones punctuated by occasional laughter.

A chill racks me, and I draw a sharp breath. A shadow breaks from their ring, rises and approaches, kneeling down beside me. “Luca. How are you?”

“Cold.”

“To be sure. Belzar? More heat for our guest.” Another shape leaves the fire ring, and soon arrives with blankets; I feel the weight of the wool, nestle beneath its warmth. Before I can offer a thank you, the giver’s shadow resumes its place by the fire.

“Don’t try to talk.” The man’s accent is thick, like none I’ve heard before. “The explosive landed near, though likely it was
intended for the wall and not for you. Terrance removed metal fragments from your leg but they were not deep. You should mend well.”

Metal? I lift my covers. Dried blood darkens the loose-fitting browns I received from the rats.

“Are you … are you part of the rebellion?”

“You aren’t going to rest, are you? Very well.” His strong arms pull me and my covers to a sit, gently lean me back against iron bars. “Your question. Are we part of the rebellion … Hmm. I suppose too far from the mark. Please, call me Akov.”

“And I’m in a cell with you.” I shift against the iron. “I’ve heard rumors of these secret pens. Holding areas before an undoing.”

“Your eyes took quite a flash.” Another shadow hoists a lantern. “Look around once more.”

In the light’s lazy glow, I catch sight of the exit — a circular door, thick and immense, fit into a wall of steel.

A bank vault!
Gold bars are stacked in one corner, silver bars line the far wall. “You stole all this,” I say. “You broke in here and stole it.”

“So quick to judge to the bad. Think, Luca. If we were thieves, we sure didn’t get far.” Akov gestures toward the others. “Make room. Let’s bring Luca around our fire.”

The smoke hangs above us and burns my throat, but I’m warm, which is enough. None of the people gathered look frightening or cruel. Twelve men, a few women, and two girls, one about my age.

“Are you going to let me go?” I ask.

“Oh, Luca. You aren’t being detained. Terrance mended you. He says you’ll be stiff, but you can leave anytime.” A girl speaks, and when she does I gasp. Emile. It’s Emile, a Fifteen.

I lean forward, feel the pain in my thigh, and cough in the smoke. “Please just tell me where I am. I need to reach …”

Do I tell them I want to reach the Amongus?

“You wanted to get inside the barricade. You wanted to follow your comrades,” Akov whispers. “But you paused, and that pause saved your life. We saw.”

“Luck,” I say.

“There is no such thing.” Emile reaches over and sweeps matted hair off my face. Her touch feels good. Should it feel good?

“You were protected,” she continues. “As we all are.”

“By …”

“By the Voice.”

How do you know what I hear … Wishers!

Weeks ago, I would have considered myself fortunate to be in their company. I used to have so many questions. Now thoughts of Seward and Talya consume my mind. “Can you get me into the compound?”

“When you can walk,” says Akov.

I throw off my blankets and grimace myself to vertical. I hobble around the room. “I’m good.”

Akov rubs his face. “You’ll be one more day with us, and then, yes, we will see what we can do.” He pauses. “It is a pleasure to speak to you. Most of us have traveled far to reach New Pert. We were born in Siberska and lived on the rim of Lake Baikal. But it, too, dried. We journeyed far to reach this place, and have picked up a few stragglers these last days.” He glances at Emile.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Luca. We were forewarned of your return, and your distress.” Emile gazes into me.

“Who told you? Wait … let me guess. This Voice spoke to
you.” I tongue my cheek. “And since we’re all listening to the crazy voice in our heads, did it happen to say anything else I should be aware of? Maybe a clue about my father’s location, or something useful like, say, how to get over that wall without blowing up?”

“More was said.” Akov grows somber. “Luca, you must stay alive. Much depends on it.”

Above us I hear a slamming of metal.

“We’re compromised.” Akov leaps to his feet, bends over, and hoists me over his shoulder. “Emile, Suzanya, with me. The rest of you, my blessed comrades, don’t fear — pray.”

“We’ll see you soon, Akov.” The man who blanketed me now smothers the fire. With perfect precision, the entire group slips silently out of the vault and into the elevator.

“Where are you going?” I call. The door slowly closes. Akov waits, listens. The sound of clanking vanishes.

“They go to find a way out for you,” Akov whispers, and another minute passes.

“Maybe it was nothing.”

Akov exhales. “It’s never nothing. Now it’s our turn. We’ll take a different path.”

We enter the stairwell, climb one flight, and stop. “Luca, pain or no, you will need to run.” As Akov sets me down, I feel his heartbeat quicken. Before I can ask him what lies before us, he peeks through the glass of the stairwell door and bows his head. I steal a look, and my jaw drops.

The Wishers stand, hands clasped, a wall blocking the elevator door. Across from them, men. Shouting men. Men with guns.
Where did those men get guns?

“The Amongus boy! Where have you sheltered him?” They
point their weapons at my protectors. As one, the Wishers drop to their knees, lifting their palms to the sky.

A shot rings out, and a woman slumps to the ground. Then another. I can’t bear to watch, but I can’t turn away. I’ve never seen this much hate, or this much sacrifice.

They hardly know me.

Akov gazes into my eyes and whispers, “Luca, they do this for you.” Tears stream down his cheeks as he lifts his head toward a room filled with undones. “They’re now home;
their
role in the prophecy is now fulfilled. But you still have a part to play.
You
must complete your task.”

But I don’t know this prophecy. I don’t know my task
.

“Onto the elevator! They must be below.” A young man, far too young to undo another, punches the elevator button, and soon the life-takers disappear.

“Now.” Akov pushes out into what is now a chamber of death. I limp over toward the first body, but Akov’s hand jerks me back. “These bodies no longer need our attention. We go.”

Together with the girls, we push out into the night, winding through the shadows.

My leg is on fire when minutes later we reach the cinder block wall — all that remains of the Amongus’s defenses.

Call your name
.

The Voice wasn’t Akov’s, and I obey at once.

“Radney! Radney!”

A rope flings over the top and lands at my feet. I barely have time to react before Akov ties a loop in the bottom and sticks my foot into it. He then gives a quick tug and it pulls taut, hoisting me in jerks skyward.

A single shot rings out and draws my eyes downward.

Suzanya has vanished and Emile is undone, with Akov
alone kneeling at her side. He looks up, cups his hands, and disappears into the darkness.

“Oh, my boy!” Seward reaches up and lifts me down to safety. “We thought … Well, I thought …”

He gently lowers me to the ground, where Talya draws me near.

I soak in her touch.

“I never left the wall,” she whispers, “I knew you’d come.”

“You don’t know the cost.” I pull free and let myself mourn for those in the bank, and my tears turn to rage. I no longer know who to hate.

Yet some truths are certain. Wren was right: the Wishers gave everything for me.

Outside, in the vault, I’d found a tiny pocket of peace.

Within the blockade, all is mayhem.

Men, women, and children rush about, though where they are going is not clear. There’s a fire here as well, a blazing bonfire stoked by a pile of Amongus uniforms — and a man with charred skin feeds the flames. Tents by the hundreds fill the spaces between downtown buildings. Broken glass and an occasional body accent the chaotic scene.

I finish my retelling of Akov and Emile and what I saw in the vault. Seward’s face is tight, unreadable. Talya can’t stop hugging me.

We are sitting in silence when the Amongus escort walks smartly over to us. “Still alive. The Fates are with you. As I told your father, there was a fight around the pier, and we pushed them back long enough to build the wall. You should have stayed nearer. Nothing is safe outside.”

A woman screams in the distance.

The escort rubs his tired face and continues. “Inside, you may fare little better.”

Kopter blades cut the night air, and within the walls scurrying gains purpose. Everyone presses toward the marble stairs, the only lit-up area I see. Rotors thump overhead, and the kopter slows and lands on top of the museum.

“The Council airlifts us food and water, removing us twelve at a time. Twelve,” the escort whispers. “So few. Kopters land on the hour, but there are too many who are hungry, thirsty. Landings on the minute would still not be enough.”

“Where does it take you … us?” Seward asks.

“To the PM’s island. By Council decree, the PM has withdrawn all Watchers from the mainland. The promise is that our families will be cared for on the isle, and we will be safe.”

I whisper to Seward as privately as I can. “Perhaps what we needed was not so much in the museum, but
on
the museum.” I point at the kopter. “Would this take us to Father?”

Seward perks up and straightens. “Aye, Radney, that it might.” He pats my back and turns to our escort. “I thank you for safe passage. However this ends for us, we are in your debt.”

The Amongus frowns at Seward’s hand and then nods. “Very well.”

The three of us walk quickly toward the marble stairs. Ten Amongus, still dressed in pressed uniforms, guard the entrance. There will be no sneaking by them. Not in this crowd.

“Even if we can get into the museum now, there is little chance they can airlift us this soon!” I shout above the noise. “And I have some commitments to keep!”

Seward rolls his eyes. “To a pair of undones, who will be none the wiser!”

Talya grabs my arm, and my uncle’s ear. “We’ll meet you here in three hours. You find a way to get us on the kopter.”

I look at Talya and then Seward, who scratches his cheek. Finally he straightens his uniform. “No problem, mates. I’ll see to that tiny issue right away.”

We wander the streets asking Amongus if anyone knows Phale. It is not a wise thing to do, not when every person here should know my face. No, it is not the wise thing, but with Talya at my side it feels right.

“Wife of Phale?” we shout.