Enclave (16 page)

“I have a little water to tide us over. Turn around.” Without asking why, he did. I struggled out of the leather harness. “Twist gave it to me. It has water pouches. The meat is gone, but I still have these.”

“Why? He risked everything by doing that.”

“I know.”

“I wish I could thank him.”

“I did for both of us. Let’s see what else there is here.”

We found another doorway off the hallway leading from the back room. I hadn’t seen it the first time because I wasn’t used to tunnels leading anywhere else. Fade noticed it and opened the door. Stairs led up.

“I thought this building had another level,” he murmured, and went jogging upward.

I didn’t know if going higher sounded like a great idea, but I wanted to stay by myself even less. Out of habit, I counted as I climbed, even though I could see perfectly well up here.

The steps opened into what I’d call a private living space. By my standards, it was unbelievably luxurious. Only the elders would’ve had something so nice in the enclave, but even they wouldn’t have gotten this much space. The room must’ve been sixteen feet long and almost that wide. I recognized the objects as furniture, but I had to ask Fade their names.

I burned with embarrassment when he grinned and pointed. “Sofa. Chair. Table.”

The sofa felt amazing when I sank onto it, despite its musty smell. Not even my rag pallet had been so soft. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes. I could hear Fade moving around, checking the place out.

“There’s another room,” he said. “We can each have our own space.”

“I’ll take the sofa.”

He sat down beside me. “So you had questions before.”

That sounded like an invitation to ask whatever I wanted. “You were born Topside … how long did you live here?”

“Eight or nine years? And then after my dad died, it got too dangerous. They chased me down into the tunnels, where I just … lost myself.” His eyes went dark and distant, as if the memories required careful handling.

I remembered how he’d been when the Hunters found him, barely human. Living alone in the dark for years would do that. I marveled once again that he’d survived.

“Why did you stay with us when you didn’t want to join the gangs?”

“The elders didn’t give me a choice,” he said. “Well, they did, technically. Once the Hunters caught me, they said I could fight for them or die.”

“Oh.” No wonder he’d hated us. We’d held him prisoner.

“I’m bigger now, and I’ve learned to protect myself. It’ll be different when we run across the gangs again.”

“What’s so bad about them? I mean, how do they compare with the enclave?” I still ached with disillusionment.

He half turned to face me, his arm resting behind my head. “You know all the rules you believed in? They exist to keep you safe, and the elders only want what’s best for everyone?”

I nodded, barely managing to restrain a flinch. “What about them?”

“The gangs have
none
. It’s … ugly, Deuce. My dad had weapons and they left us alone. Once he was gone, they were determined to recruit me. They don’t always take care of their brats. Sometimes…” His eyes bored into mine, as if willing me not to make him say it.

A shudder rolled through me. “Oh.”

At the enclave, there had been rare instances where the elders discovered the Breeders were twisted in that way. Those Breeders weren’t just exiled; they were also cut so the Freaks found them faster.

“You can see why I didn’t want to be initiated.”

I would’ve fought against it pretty fiercely myself. “Tell me what you know about the gangs. What we’ll be up against.”

“They’ll want to breed you,” he said without looking at me. “The only way to advance is to kill and keep killing until there’s nobody tougher than you left alive.”

“So it’s not like the enclave, where age is a sign of wisdom.”

He laughed. “No. We’d be considered elders. People don’t live very long.”

“But not because of sickness or age.”

“No. In the gangs, they kill you because you have something they want or you’re just standing in their way.”

“They must breed a lot to make up for it.”

Fade brushed my hair back, grazing the curve of my jaw. The heat of his fingertips sent a tingle through me. I tipped my head to one side so that his palm landed on the nape of my neck. His thumb skimmed along the tender skin, making me shiver. By the time he drew back slowly, I’d almost forgotten what we were talking about.

“That’s all they think girls are good for. There are no rules about it up here, either. You have no power.”

Pure cold seized me. So that was what he’d meant about it being dangerous in a different way. Up here being female meant something else entirely. The marks on my arms wouldn’t give anyone pause, but maybe my skill with a weapon would.

“I don’t think I can take any more answers tonight,” I admitted without looking up.

“You know the important stuff now.”

“Wait. Maybe one more.”

“Go ahead.”

“How did you get your name?” I’d always wondered.

For a moment I thought he wouldn’t answer, because according to enclave rules, it was an intrusive question. If I hadn’t been present, hadn’t contributed to the stack of gifts, then it should wait until he volunteered the information. But we didn’t live by their regulations anymore.

He delved into his bag and came with a tattered strip of paper. I took it, held it to the faint light, which was just strong enough to make out the shape of letters. They were so old that many of them had worn away:

C l rs w l n t fade.

His blood speckled lightly on the final word. I fingered the silky slickness of the paper, nothing like what we made in the enclave. It shone in the dark. He had attended my naming or I would produce my card. But he’d seen. He knew. Feeling honored, I handed the talisman back to him.

“It came off an old bottle,” he said. “But that was too big to carry around, so I peeled off the paper.”

“Do you know what it says?”

He stroked the edges with his thumbs; I could actually see the darker imprint where he’d done that often since his naming. “I think it says, ‘Colors will not fade.’”

To me, it sounded like a wonderful message, a promise of loyalty and fidelity. His colors would not fade or change, no matter what. The name fit someone who wouldn’t leave his partner, even when she disappeared in the dark, and who wouldn’t let her go Topside alone.

“It suits you.” I paused, wondering if I should ask. Maybe he didn’t remember. Maybe he wouldn’t tell me. “What did your sire call you?”

“Like you said, I’m Fade now. I’d rather not go back.”

I understood. A dead man had given the old name to him. It didn’t seem like a good idea to speak it. When he put his arm around me, I didn’t resist. He waited a beat, as if gauging my reaction, and then he eased his head against mine. Sorrow cloaked him, losses I could neither see or know.

Such closeness felt new … and intimate. It had been different with Thimble and Stone, none of the awareness that prickled through me with restless sweetness. Because he seemed to need me, even if it went unspoken, I let myself answer by turning my cheek to his and I remembered the kiss.

Long after he pulled away, the phantom heat lingered and haunted my sleep.

Sunshine

When I awoke, I first thought the room was on fire. I scrambled off the sofa and started to bolt when my senses caught up to my instinctive fear. No smoke meant no fire; it was a simple relationship.

So why was the room so bright?

I crept to the window and gazed out, eyes slitted in pain. Everything glowed. If anyone had tried to explain this to me, I wouldn’t have believed it. The light hurt.

Fade came up behind me. He wore something that wrapped around his eyes, and he offered the other to me. I slid it onto my face.

“Sunglasses. There were a few left on the floor downstairs.” He smiled. “Good thing. I’m not used to the sun anymore either.”

So the light had a name. I still wasn’t sure I liked it, but with my eyes covered, I could bear it. “Will it hurt us?”

“It might. Remember how long it’s been since I was here.”

Through the smoky filter, I gazed out over the city for the first time. I had seen pictures before, of course, old and faded. The elders had told us they reflected a lost world, now poisoned beyond hope. There was nothing Topside except terror and death. Like most of their stories, they contained a grain of truth buried beneath the lies.

Tall shapes filled my view; some had collapsed and lay in ruins. Shorter buildings squatted at the base, holding their shapes better. They were built of old stone—some natural, others looked as if man’s hands had shaped them. The colors had faded beneath the burning sun, much like the artifacts we’d found down below. Built side to side, not much space existed between them, and occasionally, time had pushed one to the side, so it leaned tiredly against its neighbors.

One building rose above the others, its sharp tower gleaming green. It was a different from the buildings that surrounded it, more beautiful and with rounded points atop the windows. Most of them hung in jagged shards, and it had been marked with white painted that identified it as claimed territory. For no reason I could name, the damage saddened me. Resolute, I turned.

“What’s our plan?” I portioned out what was left of our enclave provisions. In my opinion, the first priority should be finding food and water.

“My dad used to talk about getting out of the city.” Fade gestured. “That’s what he called this place. He told stories about where it was green and clean, where you could plant food and watch it grow, where there were plenty of animals for hunting, and you could drink the water without getting sick.”

That sounded unlikely, but … “Did he tell you where that was?”

“North. That was all he ever said.”

“Then let’s go.”

I hoped he had some sense of direction. I wasn’t altogether sure I could find my way around the corner Topside.

“We should wait until nightfall. We’re more likely to run into the gangs during the day, and I suspect we might get burned out there.”

“Burned?” I had visions of being roasted on a spit.

“By the sun.” Fade smiled slightly. “The gangs won’t cook and eat us.”

“Then what can we do for water? We may be able to find food along the way, but—”

“I’ve been thinking about that. There’s water downstairs. If we can figure out some way to boil it, maybe it would be all right.”

“We could build a fire out back.” There was plenty of stuff to burn.

I got up and rummaged through the cabinets. I turned up a pot, but we needed some way to suspend it over the flames. We occupied the day building a contraption out of scrap junk.

“Will this work?”

I shook my head. It took most of the day to put it together, and he stood watch while I started the fire. His vigilance made me nervous even as it reassured me. If there were any gangers around, he’d spot them. The noises were still too strange for me to tell what was threatening—I started at things he said were harmless, like the chittering of small animals and the flutter of wings. And my eyesight wasn’t what it should be. Even with the sunglasses on, I could barely tolerate the sunshine. Though the warmth felt strange and beautiful on my skin, Fade shooed me back indoors.

“Small doses, Deuce. You have to get used to it, or it’s going to sting.”

Right. He’d said the sun could burn me. It certainly looked angry enough, all orange and glowing mad. I peered up at it through the dark filter, through the glass, and wondered how we could’ve lost all memory of something so huge. Down in the enclave, there had been no talk of day or night, no mention of anything but burning air and water that scalded like fire. Somehow we’d mixed everything up. Sorrow rose in me, as I realized the Wordkeeper dedicated his whole life to lies. What a waste.

I sat in the storeroom while Fade handled the actual work, and I kept busy examining the items piled in dusty, papery boxes. I found a metal object that appeared to be nothing much at first glance, but the more I played with it, the more parts I found. I recognized the knife, but not the other tools. Two looked like they might be good for stabbing, but I could only guess at the rest. Since it was light and it folded nicely, I stowed it in my bag.

Through the open door, I watched Fade work. He used the lighter his father had left him to kindle the smaller objects and then the sparks spread. Eventually the fire burned bright and clean, curls of smoke floating off toward the sky. In the enclave, we’d never have allowed it to get so big. Here, it didn’t seem to matter. I had the fleeting thought that someone might see the blaze and come to investigate, but if so, we’d handle them.

He turned and saw me staring. “Find anything good?”

“Maybe.”

I prowled some more, frustrated by his refusal to let me help outside. I wondered if I’d always be so useless Topside. On a tall shelf, I found a dusty metal box. I lifted it down and looked for a way to open it. Something important must be inside. An opening looked as though an item would fit, possibly opening it.