The Aegis Solution (36 page)

"Won't the batteries die without the solar panels feeding them anymore?"

"Yes, eventually. You must remember, Aegis is still not even approaching its design capacity,
insofar as population and, therefore, electrical demand. The batteries should last for many days, perhaps
even weeks."

"Besides," Tillie added as she walked over to them, "I've got two generators stashed."

"You know, Tillie," Elias remarked, "you are rapidly losing the ability to surprise me."

"Oh, yeah? Well…hey, what's that?"

As Elias jerked around to look in the direction she was staring, she suddenly punched him in the
stomach.

"Ooww! What was that for?"

"Just wanted to show you that I could still surprise you. Come on, we'd better clear out of this open
corridor and get to my place."

Rubbing his abdomen with both hands, he watched as she grabbed the duffel bag he had taken
from her down in the storm system, and tossed it over her shoulder. Carrying only his rifle, he followed
her as he heard Wilson softly laughing.

The balance of the journey was uneventful, and they were all soon entering her den. In deference
to Tillie's mudroom, they all paused and leaned their weapons and packs against the walls. Elias hung
up his windbreaker on one of the decorative hooks, leaving his 9mm in the pocket. Exhausted, they
rounded the corner and proceeded to get settled in her main room.

Almost immediately, Stone excused himself, and was gone for several minutes. As he walked back
in, Tillie glanced up at him. "Where were you all this time?"

He reached up and shook the back of his shirt collar. "On our trip through the storm sewer, I got
sand everywhere – inside my shirt, pants, socks, my…."

"I don't need to know the details," she interrupted. "You didn't shake out your clothes in my
environment, did you? If I find sand scattered all over my pretty stuff, I'll make you pick it off one grain
at a time."

"No, I didn't," he answered quickly. "I went down the passageway. That's why I was gone so long."

Tillie eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing.

"Now, I'm really confused." Stone's brow furrowed.

"About what, Eric?" Elias asked.

"Before we were attacked at Wilson's, I thought we had concluded that Faulk wants you alive. It
didn't look as if that really was the case when they torched Wilson's place with us trapped on the porch."

"Not necessarily," Wilson surmised. "It could have been their plan to smoke us out. It is a rare
individual who will remain in a burning building, no matter what might be outside. People have even
leapt from twenty-story windows to avoid the experience."

"I think Wilson's right. If he, or whoever we're working against, wanted me dead, I would have died
during that first run-in with the Zooks."

Tillie, who was lying on the sofa, with her feet dangling over the back and her arms crossed and
covering her face, blurted, "Duh! That's a no-brainer. What I don't get is, if they knew you were coming,
why did Kreitzmann buy your act and give you a tour?"

Elias paused and did not answer. Neither Wilson nor Stone offered an explanation, either. Tillie,
waiting for a response and getting none, uncovered her face and twisted her head around to look at
them. "You mean I'm the only one who has been wondering about that? It's what I'd expect from these
two, but Wilson, I'm surprised at you."

"Tillie, there is no reason to be insufferable. I am certain that all of us have wondered the same
thing."

"It hadn't occurred to me," Stone said.

"See!"

"Tillie!"

"Okay, okay."

Elias cleared his throat before speaking. "I've been wondering the same thing. Every explanation
leads me in a circle. I feel like a dog chasing his tail."

"I have no doubt that we are missing an essential piece to the puzzle," Wilson agreed. "Once we
find it, that particular question will be answerable."

Elias looked at him thoughtfully. "You're right. But I'm not sure we have enough time to find that
piece. By the way, we've been through quite a bit over the last few hours. How are you holding up?"

Wilson, who had sunk so deeply into an overstuffed chair that his arms, perched on the armrests,
were level with his ears, smiled at Elias. "I appreciate your asking. I really do. I've managed to keep
myself in fairly good condition over the years…."

"Because I've worked his butt off," Tillie interjected.

"She's right. There are very few things better for an old man than to struggle to keep up with a
young friend. To answer your query, Elias, I am fine and looking forward to what may come next."

"Wish I could say the same," he responded.

Stone, who had taken to the bed Elias had awakened in earlier, joined in, "Speaking of what may
come next, Elias, do you have any idea what we are going to do?"

"I do. I think we have two issues. We need to find that missing piece to the puzzle Wilson
mentioned, and I think that we need to figure a way to get out of here. And, considering that God,
nature, or who-knows-what seems to be intent on tearing this place apart, I don't think we have much
time to do both."

"Which means we should probably split up," Stone offered.

"That might be a good idea."

"It's a dumb idea," Tillie huffed.

"Why?"

"If we are going to make it, we need to stick together. In all the movies I ever watched before I
came in here, it was always the same. Somebody in the group said, ‘We need to split up,' and as soon
as they did, they all died."

"Tillie, this isn't a movie."

"Don't you think I know that, Elias?" As she answered him, she swung her legs around, placing her
feet on the floor, and sat up, facing him. "But it doesn't matter. Each one of us has something to offer.
You split us up, we all lose. Besides, I can solve one of your two issues."

"Which one?"

"How to get us out of here!"

Elias stared at Tillie, trying to read her eyes. She stared back defiantly.

"Tillie, my dear, you know a way out?" Wilson inquired softly.

She nodded. "I always have, basically since I came into this place."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

She turned to look at Wilson. "Why? Did you ever once say you wanted to leave?"

"No. You know that I didn't."

"Then why would I tell you?"

"How did you find it?" Elias asked.

"Not important. I just did. Remember me? I like to explore. I like to crawl through every nook and
cranny to see where it goes."

Elias took a deep breath, aware that he was rolling the dice. "I don't believe you."

"WHAT?" She nearly swung up off the sofa as she shouted.

"I don't believe you. I've been in the business my whole life. The reason I'm still alive is that I can
tell if someone is feeding me a line of baloney."

She laughed once, derisively. "I don't know about the rest of your life, but the reason you are still
alive at this moment is me. If your ability to survive is what you're hanging your hat on, from the little
bit I've seen, I'm not impressed."

Wilson began to chastise Tillie, but Elias held up his hand to stop him. "Tillie, this is easy to
resolve. If you know a way out, why don't you show me?"

"Why don't you go to hell?"

The three men fell into silence, all staring at her. She was perched on the edge of the cushion,
leaning forward, her eyes wide, her breathing ragged, her fists clenched, her entire body so tight it might
have been a coiled spring.

 In a soft and gentle voice, Wilson spoke to her. "Tillie…I have known you almost since the day
I arrived. I have counted you as my friend. In that time not a day has passed in which we did not spend
time together. Throughout much of it, you have been my lifeline, my thread of optimism, a stabilizing
force when I might have wandered too far from the realm of hope."

His words had an effect on her, as the tension gradually seeped out of her body. Her fists slowly
unclenched.

"You have been the only friend I have had in this unnatural habitat. And you have been the only
friend I have needed."

She turned her eyes to look at him. A hint of a smile curled her mouth.

"I must say that the Tillie sitting before me is not the same person who wielded the shovel as we
planted my trees and bushes. It is not the same person who sat with me for hours as we laughed, cried,
and shared our thoughts; not the same person who gave me my only reason to look forward to each day
in this self-imposed prison."

A single tear welled in the corner of her eye and spilled down her cheek.

"Mathilda, please tell me what is wrong."

As Wilson spoke, more tears had joined the first in a trek down the sides of her face. In the course
of less than a minute, the hard, angry countenance of the woman evaporated, replaced by the fragile,
vulnerable face of a younger girl.

Speaking to Wilson as if they were the only two in the room, Tillie, her voice muted and breaking,
said, "This isn't what I wanted, what I hoped for when I put up the sign."

Wilson smiled at her reassuringly. "I know. It is not what I hoped for, either."

"It's almost like I made things worse."

"No, no, Tillie. What is happening around us now was all in motion long before you put pen to
cardboard."

She tilted her head slightly to the side, a move which seemed to accentuate her sudden vulnerability.
Elias and Stone watched silently.

"I know that, Wilson. But I thought the cavalry would come charging in, or at least Bruce Willis
and Arnold Schwartzenegger, not Andy Griffith and Don Knotts."

Elias took a breath to speak but was stopped by Wilson who lifted a single finger, never moving
his eyes away from Tillie. "I believe that sometimes people might actually pleasantly surprise you."

She shook her head. "I don't think so, Wilson. I mean, look! Everything that's happened since Elias
has arrived I've done, not him. And when we were on your front porch, it was you who had planned
for an attack and prepared the things that saved us. If we were relying on them, we'd both be dead or
in one of Kreitzmann's cages by now."

"You need to trust, Tillie...trust in your judgment. You need to be willing to give people a chance."

"I can't!"

Wilson hesitated, sensing that he was entering some forbidden territory, one that over the years he
had verbally stumbled close to and always quickly backed away. He knew that this time, now, he must
plunge ahead. "Why, Tillie? Why can't you?"

She was biting her bottom lip, no longer looking at Wilson. Her gaze and her mind had traveled
to another place and another time. Almost a minute passed before she spoke, her voice even more
subdued than before, her tone flat and emotionless. "It has to be me. I can't count on anyone else."

"You still haven't told me why."

Wilson could see the muscles in her jaw flex repetitively. Her eyes now darted, unable to fix upon
one location. "Because if I do, someone dies."

"Tillie?" Wilson spoke her name and waited for her eyes to connect with his. His patience was soon
rewarded, and he continued, "This is why you are in Aegis, isn't it?"

Staring at him, she unsteadily jerked her head up and down to indicate that he was correct.

As soothingly as he could muster, Wilson asked, "What happened?"

Her voice suddenly sounded as if it came from someone years younger. "I don't…I don't want to
say."

"I've never asked you before, Tillie. I've always known not to. But I think perhaps it is time."

Her head began swaying side to side, a nonverbal denial of the cascading thoughts within her mind.
The motion intensified, almost as if she were trying to shake out the images or memories. Wilson
waited.

The swaying reluctantly ceased. She said nothing for such a long time that Wilson was about to
coax her, when suddenly she began.

"I was sixteen. Almost sixteen. My mother had told me that I couldn't date until my birthday. I
thought I knew better. I always did. I was secretly seeing a boy named Jason from the school I used to
go to.

"My dad was dead. He had been for about three years. Right after he died…I mean right after, my
mother started dating. A lot of guys. A regular parade through our house. I hated her for what she was
doing. I thought that she was glad he was gone, that now she felt free. And probably since I hated her
for dating so soon after Dad died, she started hating me, too.

"It wasn't long before one of the guys...she wasn't even sure which one...got her pregnant. It didn't
matter, since all she did was pick the one she wanted to believe it was and told him he was going to be
a father. She might as well have said that a meteor was coming and was going to hit our town; he split
so fast it was nuts!"

The men listened to her story, transfixed. Although her voice, to this point, had been flat,
inflections and emotions began to creep in.