The Believers (The Breeders Series - Book 2) (7 page)

Feeling a little more assured, I lift the warm bowl in my hands and spoon a bite into my mouth. The soupy porridge slides over my tongue. “When can I see her?” I need to find out what's going on with Ethan and Clay too, but one thing at a time.

The girl tilts her head, curls bouncing. “Maybe later. But first I get to give you the tour.” She grins, pieces of chewed bacon peeking behind her teeth.

“Great,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. I look back at the open grate. I can’t chance a run for it. Not when they have Mama and the rest of my family locked up.

She pulls a bright red scrap of paper from her pocket and begins folding it while I eat. I've never seen paper that bright. Where do they get all these amazing relics from? I watch her thin fingers for a moment. “Hey, how come they let you come in here? Don’t they worry I’ll take you hostage or something?”

She runs her thumb and fingernail along a crisp paper crease, her bracelets jangling. “My dad told them you won’t.”

“How does he know I won’t?”

She bends her fold into a triangle, which she spreads and folds again. “He’s the Messiah.”

“Your dad's the Messiah. Wow.” I lean back and eat my one slice of bacon. Damn, it’s good. I wish the girl hadn’t eaten the other one. “What’s that like?”

She shrugs as she folds. “He’s real busy all the time. You know, getting prophecies and talking to the Gods or whatever.” Finally, she stops folding and lifts her creation to me. An angular red bird has emerged from her single sheet of paper.

I touch the tip of its bill. “How'd you do that?”

She hands it to me and I examine its careful folds. “I can show you later.” She stands. “Are you done?” She points to my tray.

I nod and pat my happy stomach. A full meal. When was the last time I had one of those? Probably in the Breeders' hospital. I cringe at the thought. “What’s your name?”

“Mage,” she says, tucking the paper bird into a large pocket in the front of her oversized jumper. “What do you want to see first?”

“My mother,” I say and she shakes her head. “Okay, how about the boys’ wing?”

She considers this. “It should be safe now during the daytime.”

I shoot her a look. “What d’you mean?”

Her eyes go wide. Quickly she wipes the shock from her face. “You probably want to see your friends, huh?” she asks, leading me out.

I nod, ducking under the grate and into the hallway with her. Nearly all of the grates are open now. A woman walks by, pushing a cart laden with food trays. Two others walk in front of us with large bins of dirty clothes on their hips. So many women, and they're all free. If I didn’t get the impression that this place was sitting on a big, nasty secret, I might want to stick around.

Mage leads me past the rows of stores that make up these women's homes. I pass by a smaller store with worn pink carpet and faded plastic posters with pictures of glittering jewelry, advertising, “Buy One, Get One Free.” Small hexagonal-shaped racks that look like they can spin line the walls. Between them, a group of toddlers sits cross-legged on the carpet while an elderly woman claps and sings them a song. As we pass, their little voices repeat her refrain. “In the Gods' sight we lie. Show us, fathers, your reply. Open the eyes of a heart most true. Show us, fathers, what to do. ”

Mage thumbs back at the store. “That's Little Tree. Kids stay there until about five. Then they move up to lessons with Yusuf in the Willow Room.” She leads me past a bigger room where older children lie on their bellies in small circles. They're writing on big canvas sheets with something that looks like bits of charcoal as a middle-aged man with a long gray ponytail walks around, monitoring their progress. He waves a hand to Mage.

“That's Yusuf,” she says.

We turn a corner. In a large department store, I see where my soupy breakfast came from. Inside, where racks used to hold clothing and sporting goods, these people have set up a makeshift greenhouse. Plots of dirt run in staggered rows, covering nearly every surface. The ceiling's been cut away in big rectangular sections and sheets of sand-blasted plastic have been stretched across to let in the light while keeping out the sand and heat. Men and women with stooped backs and dirt-covered fingers water, weed, and tend each little green sprout.

“My papa was the one that got the water working.” A tinge of pride coats Mage's voice. “That's when they made him Messiah.”

“How's this possible?” I ask. An old woman with her back bowed like a candy cane plucks a tomato from a vine and drops it into a basket she wears at her hip.

Mage stuffs her hands in her pockets and rocks back and forth on her heels. “We use the juice from the solar panels to run power to sections of the mall, the water, the ventilation and the air conditioning. My papa says when they first came here two generations ago, it was super hot and dark. No toilets even,” she whispers, making a face. “Then the Gods showed him how to make the power, and the people have lived blessedly ever since.” She talks like she's repeating some rote message.

I fix her with a look. “The
Gods
told him how to hook up the power?”

She blinks at me and nods. “My papa's a prophet. He has the sight. He keeps us safe by following what they say.”

“I didn't know God was an electrician.”

She tilts her head, confused. “Come on,” she says, turning. I take one last look at the little indoor farm nestled under old “for-sale” banners. It's amazing, really.

After a few more stores, the floor plan opens up to the giant food court we walked through when we first entered. I peek in a restaurant cubby that’s decorated with pictures of a black and white bear smiling and holding two thin sticks in its paw. Behind the counter, people are chopping, tending the stove, and stacking dishes.

Mage leans into the counter and presses her face to the display front glass. “They're making lunch.” She peers in and makes a face. “Ham roast. Blah. Get ready for a lot of pork.”

I shrug. “After what I've been eating? Are you kidding? Pork sounds amazing.”

“Pigs will eat almost anything,” she says, shuffling forward. She twirls around on one toe, a clumsy ballerina, and then stops and looks at me. “I hate pork. Pork makes you a dork.” She hops on one foot across each tile as she says it.

“If you say so.” What I don't say is,
You've never known starvation. You have no idea what it's like out there.

“The carousel,” Mage says, swinging around one of the outer poles. I stop to touch a horse's flared nostril, when footsteps thud toward me.

“Riley!”

It's Ethan, running at a full clip. He slams into me, his bony body nearly taking me out as he tightens his arms around my waist. I wrap my arms around him and press my face to his dark hair. Behind him Rayburn follows, pushing a greasy strand of black hair off his glasses. Clay limps between tables and chairs, his face breaking into a smile. He throws his arms around me. My heart thrums as I pick up his scent.

“Didn't sleep at all,” he whispers into my hair. “I didn't know what they done to you.”

“I'm okay,” I say, pulling back, realizing I have an audience. People have stopped their business and turned.

“We heard 'bout yer ma,” Clay says, clutching a chair to help support his weight. “D'you know how she's doin'?”

Ethan’s hand finds mine. “Is she okay?”

I run a hand down his hair. “I don't know. Mage…” I pause. “Everyone this is Mage. Mage, this is Clay, Rayburn, and Ethan.” Ethan's hand slips from mine as he notices her. He stands up straighter, puffing out his chest.

Mage smiles as her eyes linger on my little brother. The flush in his cheeks is unmistakable. “We don't know anything about your mom,” she says, “but I’m sure she's doing dandy. We'll go check when we're done.” She blinks those golden lashes and the blush burns deeper through Ethan's cheeks.

I'm about to ask how long this tour will take when she grips my hand and pulls me close. “I have something to show you,” she whispers, her eyes flitting around the noisy room. “Can you be quiet?” She looks at everyone's face. We all nod. “Follow me and act natural.”

She leads us through the noisy cafeteria and down a hallway. A group of women walk by and Mage smiles, but the instant they’re gone, her face becomes stony again. “This way.” Instead of heading back to the sleeping halls, she heads right, down a dark hallway.

We walk together, Ethan at my side, Clay and Rayburn behind. Clay limps heavily. At the pace Mage is going, I know it hurts him. I bite my tongue. Nothing would embarrass him more than me asking to slow down so that he could rest his tore-up leg. I’ve got no idea what we're into and I don't wanna ask in case she changes her mind. She might be showing us a way out, trucks or even weapons, though I'm not sure why she'd do that. Either way, I wanna see what's on this side of the mall.

As we move farther from the warm, bustling food court, the dark hallway is eerie and quiet, sending nervous tingles up my arms. The hallway has the worst signs of decay I've seen so far in this camp. Large cracks run up the plaster walls. The carpet’s been stripped away, leaving only pitted concrete. Our footsteps echo. It smells like mildew, stale air, and something else—something sulfuric and chemical.

Mage turns around, her features hollow in the dim light. “If anyone asks why we're down here, I'm going to tell them that I found you wandering off and I’m bringing you back. It's the only lie I can think of that they'll believe. Okay?”

“Mage, where are you tak—”

“Shhh.” She presses her finger to her lips. “Just a little farther.”

Clay's hand finds the small of my back. He's just as nervous as I am.

“Stop,” Mage whispers and we do.

Dim outlines lurk in the corners. Ethan's hand finds mine. I hear the distinct sound of a struck match and the hiss of flame. Then light floods the darkness as Mage turns on a gas camping lantern she's lifted from a stool beside her.

A giant crevasse cuts across the ground where the floor used to be—a deep, black scar, ominous and ugly. We're only steps away. If Mage hadn’t stopped us at that exact moment, we would've plunged to our deaths. I peer down. Crumbled bits of concrete run around the crevasse wall in a jagged slope like a makeshift spiral staircase. There's no visible bottom. The sulfuric smells waft from its depths so strong it makes my eyes water.

“What're we doing here?” I ask. Part of me wonders if she's going to shove us forward and be done with us. I grip Ethan's hand tighter.

Mage steps closer and the light spills into the hole. Still no bottom.

“This is the Temple of the Spirits. Or the hole as some call it. We aren't supposed to come near here or enter without the Messiah's permission. To do so means banishment. There will be no pardons.” She repeats her memorized warning and then swings the lantern back to look at our faces. “Freaky, huh?” A smile finally breaks out on her face. “Like Alice's rabbit hole.” She leans over. “Down, down, down.”

“Who's Alice?” I ask, edging closer. A sick unease is crawling up my limbs. I don't like this place at all. “Why you showing us this if it's forbidden?”

“Cause no one else will come with me,” she says, peering down, a strange wonder on her face. “I think there's something weird going on down there.”

Goosebumps run up my arms as she says it. I step back and take Ethan's hand. “We should go.”

“Yeah,” she says, dimming the lantern light until its rays die. I stare into the blackness and pray my eyes adjust soon. I don't like being in the dark with my back to that awful pit.

“Well, back to the food court. Stay quiet now.” Mage's voice trails away. Ethan, Clay, and Rayburn follow. I'm about to go when a small noise catches my attention. Some sort of low, humming sound. It's coming from the hole. I can't see the black void anymore, but I stand stock-still and wait. Finally, I hear it again. A low, desperate moaning.

Human moaning.

I stand in the darkness, my heart thudding into my ears.

“Riley?”

It's Clay's voice. I'm about to answer him when a very large shadow appears out of the dark and grabs my arm.

“What're you doing back here?” a man asks, his voice thick with anger. His breath is more rancid than the sulfur smell wafting up from the pit.

I pull back. “I’m lost.”

He shakes me and my head snaps back, a pain twanging in my neck. I pull away, but his hand is a vise.

I recognize him now, even in the dark: the bandaged nose framing two black eyes, the same red lace-up sneakers. Stephen draws me close, heat radiating off his chest. He’s sporting a different tank-top. This one is an American Flag. “You listen to me,” he growls. “If I find you back here again, I'll make things very unpleasant for your family. You want your brother on solar panel duty outside? I hear it's going to be 108 today.”

I can't see his face, but I know he's smiling viciously. He loves this. I say nothing and will myself not to do something crazy. He tugs me forward, down the dark hallway, and into the light trickling in from the food court. Mage and the boys stand at one of the tables with worry on their faces.

Clay strides up, his eyes hardening as he looks at Stephen's hand on my arm. “Riley, you okay?”

“Fine,” I say, glancing at Stephen. “I got lost.”

“Keep this one in your sight at all times,” Stephen says to Mage. Then he points a meaty finger back toward the buzzing food court. Mage leads us in and sits us at a table near the center. The sun bores down from the open ceiling. Glass windows above must have insulated this area from the heat and sun, but that glass is long gone. Tarps and canvas sheets shade the tables from direct light, but it’s still hot. I don't mind it. Anything to get away from that creepy cavern.

Stephen slams a giant container of peas down on the table. “Shell them.” Then he wanders to a booth and begins a conversation with a pretty blond girl.

I take a pea and pinch it between my fingers. Rubbing the crisp green pods between my hands is strangely soothing. I lean in. “We gotta figure out how to get the hell outta here.” I think about saying something about what the moaning, but I don’t want to scare Ethan. And really, I’m not sure what I heard.