Contain (13 page)

I wait for Bren to tell me it's clear,
that my father has left. But the next voice I hear isn't hers. It's
his.

I can't see around this damn box. I can't tell who my father's
speaking with, though I figure it has to be Bren. I thought she'd
left, but apparently not. I press myself against the wall and wait
to hear more, but after those first few murmured words, there's
nothing but silence. Had he heard me? Does he suspect I'm
here?

Several more seconds pass, and I begin
to believe that maybe Bren actually has left and that he had just
been talking to himself. I hope and pray it's only temporary and
that she'll soon return.

I rest my head back against the wall
and take in a slow, deep breath. It's been years since I've had an
asthma attack — another illness I bet those tiny spider-like
things in our blood has fixed — but my chest feels tight
enough right now that I can feel the first signs of an attack
setting in. The worst part is knowing there's nothing I can do to
stop it. Should I just give up and step out? Maybe he won't be that
angry.

But I know it's already too late for
that. It'll just look worse if I do now.

So I concentrate on shuttling air
through my mouth and nose as quietly as I can, ignoring his voice
and trying not to think about why he's talking with himself or what
he's saying. After a few minutes I feel myself relaxing
again.

The hilarity of my situation hits me a
few minutes later. I mean, what the hell am I doing hiding from my
own father? I'm freaking eighteen years old. Laughter bubbles up
inside my chest and threatens to burst through my lips.

“
Hello?” Dad suddenly asks
very loudly, immediately sobering me up. “Are you there? I can't— I
can't hear you.”

Me?

There's a click, and I realize he's on
the internal communication handset. Each room has one. But who is
he talking to?

Another pause. The chair squeaks, and
then his clothes rustle softly as he starts to pace. I squeeze back
into the shadows.

“
I thought you should know,
we had an accident last week,” he says. “Our first. It was bad.
Eddie Mancuso. He was burnt pretty badly.”

Who the hell is he talking to?
Everyone here already knows about Eddie.

“
He's healing. I'm not sure
what to make of it. The recovery is unexpected.”

Is he talking about those things in
his blood?

“
No, that's not all.
We've . . . .” He stops, and I can't tell if
he's thinking or listening. I can't hear a single thing.

“
I think this may be a
game-changer.”

Game-changer?
How?

I lean forward, curious, and risk a
quick glance around the corner, but he's too far out of my line of
sight. I crane my neck further, hoping to catch a glimpse, but he
suddenly appears again, stepping toward the middle of the room. I
jerk back and squeeze my eyes shut.

Did he see me? How could he not
have?

But he doesn't act like he has. He
doesn't come around the table or demand that I show
myself.

“
There's something else,”
he says. From the sound of his voice, I can tell he's turned around
again and is heading back over by the other side of the crate. “I
discovered—”

There's a knock, and he immediately
stops pacing and speaking. The handset clatters as he sets it
gently back onto the mount on the wall. Then I hear him step
quickly over to the door, followed by a tiny beep and a soft click
as he opens it.

“
Abraham? Good. Thought I'd
find you in here.”

“
Well, I am scheduled for
watch, Jack.”

Jonah's father?

“
Were you speaking to
someone? I thought I heard your voice.”

“
No,” Dad answers. He
coughs. “Just thinking out loud. What can I do for you?”

Jack Resnick clears his throat. “Asuka
told me she saw Finn going through the rooms on Level One earlier
today. She also mentioned that she saw him sneaking off downstairs
in the middle of the night. What was he up to?”

Missus Fujimura? That nosy
little old woman
, I think. I want to shout
that it wasn't just me, but half the bunker sneaking around. Why
didn't she see any of them? Why just me?

“
Up to?” Dad asks. “I'm not
sure I like what you're implying.”

“
I believe Asuka used the
word snooping. You know how she can get.” He chuckles. “I'm sure
it's just innocent teen stuff.”

“
Why do you think
that?”

“
Linda stopped in on
Kaleagh and Seth this morning and noticed Bren wasn't with them. As
a father of a teenager myself, I'm sure you can understand
my . . . sensitivity in this regard. I'm constantly
having to remind Jonah how different things are in here. Everyone
knows everyone else's business.”

“
What are you saying,
Jack?”

“
It's just that Bren's
still very young.”

Dad doesn't answer.

“
They're teenagers, Abe.
They have a lot of free time on their hands. And you're a busy
single parent of a growing boy. I know how hard it can be, believe
me. That's why I keep Jonah on a short leash. I'm just saying that
if you're feeling overwhelmed—”

“
I am not feeling
overwhelmed, Jack.”

There's a long pause. Then Mister
Resnick says, “It doesn't have to be like this, Abe, you and me at
odds all the time. Let me help you out, give you some time to
relax, be a father.”

“
I'm doing just fine, thank
you.”

“
It's just that we're all
worried about our children, especially Finn, you know, losing his
mother like that and his twin bro—”

“
Get out, Jack.”

I can hear the tremble in my father's
voice, the barely restrained anger. It matches my own fury. I
clench my fists and my body shakes, but I can't let them know I'm
here, no matter how badly I want to punch Mister Resnick in the
face right now. If I were to step out, I'd just embarrass my father
and prove how adolescent I am.

“
I'm just looking out for
everyone's best interest,” Jack says, his voice infuriatingly
glib.

“
As am I.”

“
It's a tough job. I'll be
the first to admit it. And nobody expects anyone to be absolutely
right all of the time.”

“
I really must ask you to
leave, Jack.”

He sighs. “Actually, my real reason
for coming here, Abe, is to tell you that, no matter how it goes
down tonight, you should know how much I appreciate all you've done
for us.”

“
Tonight?” Dad says,
surprised. “Eddie's not out of the woods yet.”

“
We'll just have to proceed
without his vote. It's what everyone wants.”

I jerk my head away from the wall so
suddenly that I accidentally knock the stack of boxes on my right
and a loose bolt rolls off and pings to the floor.

“
What was that?”

The shadows from the doorway shift. I
squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself to be discovered, but I don't
get the chance. Right then the motion alarm on the monitors begins
to beep.

“
Wraith!” my father shouts.
The chair in front of the table gets shoved away and bangs up
against the boxes. More bolts clatter to the floor, but neither he
nor Mister Resnick notices. “Front entrance! It's at the front
entrance!”

“
Wraith?” Jack cries. “But
that's not possib— Wait a second. Look! There!”

The table protests as someone leans
over it.

“
It's not a Wraith! Look at
the way he’s moving, Abe. That's a survivor! Jesus, there's someone
alive out there! We need to open up!”

“
No!” Dad shouts. “He may
be infected.”

But Jack's already moving away. “He's
on the loading ramp! Come on!”

There's more shuffling, and the door
to the room slams open. A moment later, it clicks shut again, and
everything falls silent. All I can hear are my heartbeats and the
sound of the turbines far away.

I step out from my hiding place, half
expecting to see Dad standing there staring at the screens. But I'm
alone. Both he and Jack Resnick have gone, leaving the room
unattended. My father's broken his own rule.

I circle the table and scan the bank
of monitors before me. All but one show the same view they always
have, not a trace of movement. All except the one right in the
middle of the desk.

A man is standing beneath
the camera at the main entrance to the bunker, the one we raced
through three years ago to get inside. Our
Welcome Mat
. He's wearing clothes
that look old and worn out, faded from too many washings. There are
dark spots on them, but I can't tell if it's mud or
blood.

He steps backward, looks around, then
begins to gesture wildly with his arms. He's shouting at the
camera, but there's no way to know what he's saying, not from here,
anyway. The security cams have no audio capability.

“
But there's an intercom at
the front door,” I whisper to myself, and I realize that that’s
where they've gone.

I fly from the room, no longer worried
that someone might notice me. I need to see this for
myself.

There are already a dozen people gathered around the front door
when I arrive at Level Four, and more are coming up behind me.
Apparently word has spread quickly. I can hear my father speaking
into the intercom as I skid to a stop on the edge of the crowd.
Susan Miller looks up briefly, a mixture of excitement and
apprehension in her eyes. She beckons me over to join
her.

“
What'd I miss?” I
ask.

“
Open the damn door, Abe!”
Jack Resnick shouts.

I see him standing next to my father,
leaning against the wall. He slaps his palm against the bare
concrete beside him and curses. Dad holds up his hands and pleads
with everyone to be quiet.

“
Well, other than Jack and
your dad arguing, nothing much,” Susan answers. “He says his name
is Michael Williams, or Mi
cheal
— I couldn't exactly hear. I
guess he's not infected.”

There's a buzz of chatter, and it's
growing louder by the second. Everyone's pelting my father with
questions. Some are ordering him to open the door, or at least give
Jack the security code so he can. “Quiet!” he shouts. “Everyone,
please. Be quiet. We need to be sure before we do anything
rash.”

“
This is why one man
shouldn't have all of the access codes,” Jack snaps. “One man
shouldn't be able to make all the decisions for
everyone!”

But the din subsides. Dad turns and
presses the button on the intercom. The electrical crackle further
quiets the crowded hallway.

It's been months since I've actually
made it to this part of the bunker. I used to come on occasion to
listen to the wind, the occasional chirp of a bird, hoping and
praying I wouldn't see another Wraith or hear their bloodcurdling
howl. I know others used to come here, too. We all just want a
reminder every once in a while that the world isn't dead, that
there are still normal things out there. What I would have given to
hear the distant roar of a jet. Or a car.