The Passage (97 page)

All of these calculations were moving through his mind while part of him was also struggling to keep track of the others, which proved difficult. The effect of the crowd’s advance had been to separate them, and he could detect only quick glimpses of the others: Sara’s blond hair peeking above the head of a woman with a baby over her shoulder; Caleb’s laughter, coming from somewhere out of range. To his right, a nugget of women had encircled Mausami, cooing with approval. Peter saw one dart out her hand to touch Mausami’s stomach.

Then Olson was at his side. With him was his daughter, Mira.

“The one girl, Amy,” Olson said, and it was the only time Peter had ever seen the man frown. “She can’t speak?”

Amy was standing close to Alicia, ringed by a group of little girls who were pointing at Amy and pressing their hands to their mouths in laughter. While Peter watched, Alicia lifted one of her crutches to shoo them away, a gesture half playful and half serious, sending them scattering. Her eyes briefly met Peter’s.
Help
, she seemed to say. But even she was smiling.

He turned to Olson again. “No.”

“How strange. I’ve never heard of that.” He glanced at his daughter before returning his attention to Peter, looking concerned. “But she’s otherwise … all right?”

“All right?”

He paused. “You’ll have to forgive my directness. But a woman who can bear a child is a great prize. Nothing is more important, with so few of us left. And I see that one of your females is pregnant. People will want to know.”

Your females
, Peter thought. A strange choice of words. He looked toward Mausami, who was still surrounded by the women. He realized that many of them were pregnant, too.

“I suppose.”

“And the others? Sara and the redhead. Lish.”

The line of questioning was so odd, so out of the blue, that Peter hesitated, unsure of what to say or not say. But Olson was looking at him intently now, requiring at least some kind of response.

“I guess.”

The answer seemed to satisfy him. Olson concluded with a brisk nod, the smile returning to his lips. “Good.”

Females
, Peter thought again. As if Olson were speaking of livestock. He had the disquieting sense of having told too much, of having been maneuvered into surrendering some crucial bit of information. Mira, standing beside her father, was facing the crowd, which was moving away; Peter realized she hadn’t said a word.

Everyone had begun to gather around the tables. The volume of conversation settled to a murmur as food was passed out—bowls of stew ladled from giant vats, platters of bread, pots of butter and pitchers of milk. As Peter scanned the scene, everyone talking and helping themselves, some assisting with children, women with babies bouncing on their laps or suckling at an exposed breast, he realized that what he was seeing was more than a group of survivors; it was a family. For the first time since they had left the Colony, he felt a pang of longing for home, and wondered if he had been wrong to be so suspicious. Perhaps they really were safe here.

And yet something wasn’t right; he felt that, too. The crowd was incomplete; something was missing. He couldn’t say what this missing thing was, only that its absence, nibbling at the edge of his consciousness, seemed more profound the longer he looked. Alicia and Amy, he saw, were with Jude now, who was showing them where to sit. Standing tall in his leather boots—nearly everyone else was barefoot—the man seemed to tower over them. While Peter watched, Jude leaned close to Alicia, touching her on the arm, and spoke quickly into her ear; she responded with a laugh.

These thoughts were interrupted when Olson rested his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I do hope you choose to remain with us,” he said. “We all do. There’s strength in numbers.”

“We’ll have to talk about it,” Peter managed.

“Of course,” said Olson, leaving his hand where it was. “There’s no hurry. Take all the time you need.”

FORTY-NINE

It was simple. There were no boys.

Or almost no boys. Alicia and Hollis claimed they’d seen a couple. But when Peter questioned them more closely, they were both forced to confess that they couldn’t say for sure if they’d seen any or not. With those short haircuts all the Littles wore, it was difficult to tell, and they’d seen no older children at all.

It was the afternoon of the fourth day, and Michael was finally awake. The five of them had gathered in the larger of the two huts; Mausami and Amy were next door. Peter and Hollis had just returned from their trip out to the fields with Olson. The real purpose of this trip had been to get a second look at the perimeter, because they had decided to leave as soon as Michael was able. There was no question of taking this up with Olson; though Peter had to admit he liked the man and could find no outward reason to distrust him, too much about the Haven simply failed to add up, and the events of the night before had left Peter more uncertain than ever of Olson’s intentions. Olson had given a short speech welcoming them all, but as the night had worn on, Peter had begun to find the crowd’s empty warmth oppressive, even disturbing. There was a fundamental sameness to everyone, and in the morning, Peter found he couldn’t recall anyone in particular; all the faces and voices seemed to blur together in his mind. Not one person, he realized, had asked a single question about the Colony or how they’d come to be there—a fact that, the longer he considered it, made no sense at all. Wouldn’t it be the most natural thing, to wonder about another settlement? To question them about their journey and what they had seen? But Peter and the others might just as well have materialized out of thin air. No one, he realized, had so much as told him their name.

They would have to steal a vehicle; on this point, everyone was agreed. Fuel was the next question. They could follow the train tracks south, looking for the fuel depot, or if they had enough, drive south to Las Vegas to the airport before heading north again on Highway 15. Probably they’d be followed; Peter doubted Olson would let go of one of the vans without a fight. To avoid this, they could head straight east instead, across the test range, but with no roads or towns, Peter doubted they could make it, and if the terrain was anything like it was around the Haven, it didn’t look like the kind of place where they wanted to get stranded.

This left the matter of weapons. Alicia believed there had to be an armory somewhere—from the beginning she’d maintained that the guns they’d seen were loaded, no matter what Olson said—and she’d done her best to feel out Jude on this question the night before. Jude had stayed close to her all evening—just as Olson had stayed close to Peter—and in the morning he had taken her out in a pickup to show her the rest of the compound. Peter didn’t like it, but any chance to glean more information, and to do so in a way that would go undetected, was one they had to take.

But if there was an armory, Jude had given no hint where it might be. Perhaps Olson was telling the truth, but it wasn’t anything they could risk. And even if he was, the weapons they had brought with them had to be somewhere—by Peter’s count, three rifles, nine blades, at least six magazines of ammunition, and the last of the grenades.

“What about the prison?” Caleb suggested.

Peter had already thought of this. With its fortresslike walls, it seemed the natural place to lock something away. But so far, none of them had been close enough to see how they might get inside. For all intents and purposes, the place seemed abandoned, just as Olson had said.

“I think we should wait till dark and scout it out,” Hollis said. “We can’t know for sure what we’re up against if we don’t.”

Peter turned to Sara. “How long do you think until Michael can travel?”

She frowned doubtfully. “I don’t even know what’s wrong with him. Maybe it really was heatstroke, but I don’t think so.”

She had expressed these misgivings before. Heatstroke serious enough to make him seize, Sara had said, would almost certainly have killed him, because it would have meant the brain had swollen. His protracted state of unconsciousness might follow from that, but now that he was awake, she detected no sign of brain injury at all. His speech and motor coordination were fine; his pupils were normal and reactive. It was as if he had fallen into a profound but otherwise ordinary sleep from which he had simply awakened.

“He’s still pretty weak,” Sara went on. “Some of that is just dehydration. But it could be a couple of days before we can move him, maybe more.”

Alicia sank back on her cot with a groan. “I don’t think I can keep this up that long.”

“What’s the problem?” Peter asked.

“Jude is the problem. I know we’re supposed to play along here, but I’m wondering how far I’m going to have to take this.”

Her meaning was plain. “Do you think you can … I don’t know, hold him off?”

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. But he’s not going to like it.” She paused, suddenly uncertain. “There’s something else, nothing to do with Jude. I’m not sure I should even bring this up. Does anybody remember Liza Chou?”

Peter did, at least by name. Liza was Old Chou’s niece. She and her family, a brother and her parents, had all been lost on Dark Night—killed or taken up, he couldn’t recall. Peter remembered Liza vaguely, from their days together in the Sanctuary. She was one of the older children, practically an adult in his eyes.

“What about her?” Hollis asked.

Alicia hesitated. “I think I saw her today.”

“That’s impossible,” Sara scoffed.

“I
know
it’s impossible. Everything
about
this place is impossible. But Liza had a scar on her cheek, I do remember that. Some kind of accident, I forget what it was. And there it was, the same scar.”

Peter leaned forward. Something about this new bit of information seemed important, part of an emerging pattern his mind couldn’t quite discern. “Where was this?”

“In the dairy barns. I’m pretty certain she saw me, too. Jude was with me, so I couldn’t really break away. When I looked again she was gone.”

It was conceivable, Peter supposed, that she had escaped, and somehow ended up here. But how would a young girl, as Liza was at the time, travel such a distance?

“I don’t know, Lish. Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not sure. I didn’t have the chance to be sure. I’m just saying she looked a lot like Liza Chou.”

“Was she pregnant?” Sara asked.

Alicia thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, she was.”

“A lot of the women are pregnant,” Hollis offered. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? A Little’s a Little.”

“But why no boys?” Sara went on. “And if so many of the women are pregnant, wouldn’t there be more children?”

“Aren’t there?” asked Alicia.

“Well, I thought so too. But I didn’t count more than a couple dozen last night. And the children I see all seem to be the same ones.”

Peter said, “Hollis, you said there were some kids outside.”

The big man nodded. “They’re playing on that pile of tires.”

“Hightop, check it out.”

Caleb rose from his bunk and moved to the door, opening it a crack.

“Let me guess,” Sara said. “The one with the crooked teeth and her friend, the little blond girl.”

Caleb turned from the door. “She’s right. That’s who’s out there.”

“That’s what I mean,” Sara insisted. “It’s always the same ones. It’s like they’re always out there so we
think
there’s more than there are.”

“What are we saying here?” This was Alicia. “Okay, I agree it’s strange about the boys. But this … I don’t know, Sara.”

Sara turned to face Alicia, squaring her shoulders combatively. “You’re the one who thinks she saw a girl who died fifteen years ago. She’d be, what, in her midtwenties now? How would you know it was Liza Chou?”

“I told you. The scar. And I think I know a Chou when I see one.”

“And that means we’re supposed to take your word for it?”

Sara’s sharp tone seemed to bristle through Alicia. “I don’t care if you do or not. I saw what I saw.”

Peter had heard all he wanted to. “Both of you, enough.” The two women were glowering at each other. “This isn’t going to solve anything. What’s the matter with you?”

Neither woman answered; the tension in the room was palpable. Then Alicia sighed and flopped back on the cot again.

“Forget it. I’m just tired of waiting. I can’t sleep at all in this place. It’s so goddamn hot, I have nightmares all night long.”

For a moment no one spoke.

“The fat woman?” Hollis said.

Alicia sat up quickly. “What did you say?”

“In the kitchen.” His voice was grave. “From the Time Before.”

Caleb stepped toward them from the door.
“I tell you, the boy isn’t just dumb … ”

Sara finished for him:
“ … he’s been struck dumb.”
Her face was astonished. “I’m dreaming about her, too.”

Everyone was looking at Peter now. What were his friends talking about? What fat lady?

He shook his head. “Sorry.”

“But the rest of us are having the same dream,” said Sara.

Hollis rubbed his beard, nodding. “It would appear so.”