Juliette shook her canteen, cracked the lid, and held it out to Wendel. The candle on the bench sputtered and smoked, shadows growing and shrinking. Wendel accepted the canteen and took a sip. He handed it back.
“Had to see it with my own eyes,” he whispered. “I went into the dark to see the devil. I did. Walked and walked, and here it is. Another world. I led my flock to damnation.” He twisted up his face, studied one of the pages for a moment. “Or salvation. Take your pick.”
Plucking the candle from the bench, he held a page close to it in order to see it better. “Ah, Isaiah, there you are.” And with the baritone of a Sunday, he read: “
In the time of my favor I will answer you, and in the day of salvation I will help you; I will keep you and will make you to be a covenant for the people, to restore the land and to reassign its desolate inheritances
.” Wendel touched a corner of the page to the flame and roared again: “Its desolate inheritances!”
The page burned until he had to release it. It moved through the air like an orange, shrinking bird.
“Let’s go,” Raph hissed, more insistently this time.
Juliette held up a hand. She approached Father Wendel and crouched down in front of him, rested a hand on his knee. The anger she had felt toward him over Marcus was gone. The anger she had felt as he instilled outrage in his people toward her and her digging was gone. Replacing that anger was guilt – guilt from knowing that all of their fears and mistrust had been warranted.
“Father,” she said. “Our people will be damned if they stay in this place. I can’t help them. I won’t be here. They are going to need your guidance if they’re to make it to the other side.”
“They don’t need me,” he said.
“Yes, they do. Women in the depths of this silo weep for their babies. Men weep for their homes. They need you.” And she knew this was true. It was in the hard times that they needed him the most.
“You will see them through,” Father Wendel said. “You will see them through.”
“No, I won’t. You are their salvation. I am off to damn those who did this. I’m going to send them straight to hell.”
Wendel looked up from his lap. Hot wax flowed over his fingers, but he didn’t seem to notice. The smell of burnt paper filled the room, and he rested a hand on Juliette’s head.
“In that case, my child, I bless your journey.”
••••
The trip up the stairwell was heavier with that blessing. Or maybe it was the weight of the explosives on her back, which Juliette knew would’ve been useful for the tunneling below. They could be used for salvation, but she was using them for damnation. They were like the pages of Wendel’s book in that they offered plenty of both. As she approached the farms, she reminded herself that Erik had insisted she take the dynamite. There were others eager to see her pull this off.
She and Raph arrived at the lower farms, and she knew something was wrong the moment they stepped inside. Cracking the door released a surge of heat, a blast of angry air. Her first thought was a fire, and she knew from living in that silo that there were no longer any water hoses that worked. But the bloom of bright lights down the hall and along the outer grow plots hinted at something else.
There was a man lying on the ground by the security gates, his body sideways across the hall. Stripped down to his shorts and undershirt, Juliette didn’t recognize Deputy Hank until she was nearly upon him. She was relieved when he moved. He shielded his eyes and tightened his grip on the pistol resting on his chest; sweat soaked his clothes.
“Hank?” Juliette asked. “Are you okay?” She was already feeling sticky herself, and poor Raph seemed liable to wilt.
The deputy sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. He pointed to the security gates. “You get a little shade if you crowd up against them.”
Juliette looked down the hall at the lights. They were drawing a ton of power. Every plot appeared to be lit at once. She could
smell
the heat. She could smell the plants roasting in it. She wondered how long the skimpy wiring job in the stairwell could withstand such a draw of current.
“Are the timers stuck? What’s going on?”
Hank nodded down the hallway. “People’ve been staking plots. A fight broke out yesterday. You know Gene Sample?”
“I know Gene,” Raph said. “From Sanitation.”
Hank frowned. “Gene’s dead. Happened when the lights went out. And then they fought over who had rights to bury him, treated poor Gene like fertilizer. Some folks banded together and hired me to restore order. I told them to keep the lights on until things got settled.” He wiped the back of his neck. “Before you lay into me, I know it ain’t good for the crops, but they were already ravaged. My hope is to sweat these people out, make enough of them move on to give everyone some breathing space. I give it another day.”
“In another day, you’ll have a fire somewhere. Hank, the wiring outside runs hot enough already with the lights cycling. I’m shocked they can power all of this. When a breaker goes out up on the thirties, you’re gonna have nothing but dark for a very long time down here.”
Hank peered down the hall. Juliette saw rinds and cores and scraps of food on the other side of the gates. “How’re they paying you? In food?”
He nodded. “The food’s all gonna go bad. They plucked everything. People were just actin’ crazy when they got here. I think a few headed up, but there are all these rumors that the door to this silo is open and if you go up much further, you die. And if you go down, you die. Lots of rumors.”
“Well, you need to dispel those rumors,” Juliette said. “I’m sure it’s better up or down than it is here. Have you seen Solo and the kids, the ones who used to live here? I heard they came up this way.”
“Yup. A few of those kids were staking a plot right down the hall before I rigged the lights. But they left a few hours ago.” Hank eyed Juliette’s wrist. “What time is it, anyway?”
Juliette glanced at her watch. “It’s a quarter past two.” She saw he was about to ask another question. “In the afternoon,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“We’re going to try and catch up with them,” Juliette said. “Can I leave you to handle these lights? You can’t draw this much power. And get more people to move up from here. The farms in the Mids are doing much better, or they were when I was here. And if you have people looking for work, they can use hands in Mechanical.”
Hank nodded and struggled to his feet. Raph was already heading to the exit, his coveralls spotted with sweat. Juliette clasped Hank on the shoulder before heading off as well.
“Hey,” Hank called out. “You said what time it was. But what day is it?”
Juliette hesitated at the door. She turned and saw Hank gazing at her, his hand shielding his eyes. “Does it matter?” she asked. And when Hank didn’t respond, she supposed it didn’t. All the days were the same now, and every one numbered.
54
Jimmy decided to search for Elise on two more levels before turning back. He had begun to suspect that he’d missed her, that she’d run inside a level after her animal or to use the bathroom and he’d gone right by. Most likely, she was back at the farms with everyone else while he was stomping up and down the silo alone.
At the next landing, he checked inside the main door, saw nothing but darkness and silence, called out for Elise, and debated going even one level further. Turning back to the stairwell, a flash of brown caught his eye above. He shielded his old eyes and peered up through the green gloom to see a boy peering over the rails at him. The kid waved. Jimmy did not wave back.
He headed for the stairs with a mind of returning to the lower farms, but he soon heard the patter of light footsteps spiraling down toward him. Another kid to look after, he thought. He didn’t wait for the boy, but continued along. It took a turn and a half before the child caught up to him.
Jimmy turned to berate the kid for bugging him, but he recognized the boy up close. The brown coveralls and the wiry mop of corn-colored hair. It was the kid who had chased Elise through the bazaar.
“Hey,” the boy hissed, breathing hard. “You’re that guy.”
“I’m that guy,” Jimmy agreed. “I suppose you’re looking for food. Well, I don’t have a thing—”
“No.” The kid shook his head. He had to be nine or ten. About the same age as Miles. “I need you to come with me. I need your help.”
Everyone needed Jimmy’s help. “I’m a bit busy,” he said. He turned to go.
“It’s Elise,” the boy said. “I followed her here. Through the mines. Some people up there won’t let her go.” He glanced up the stairwell, his voice a whisper.
“You’ve seen Elise?” Jimmy asked.
The boy nodded.
“What do you mean, people?”
“It’s a bunch of them from that church. My dad goes to their Sundays.”
“And you say they have Elise?”
“Yeah. And I found her dog. Her dog was trapped behind a busted door a few levels down from here. I penned it up so it couldn’t get loose. And then I found where they’re keeping Elise. I tried to get to her, but some guy told me to scram.”
“Where was this?” Jimmy asked.
The boy pointed up. “Two levels,” he said.
“What’s your name?”
“Shaw.”
“Good work, Shaw.” Jimmy hurried to the stairwell and started down.
“I said
up
from here,” the boy said.
“I need to grab something,” Jimmy told him. “It’s not far.”
Shaw hurried after him. “Okay. And look, mister, I want you to know how hungry I was. But that I wasn’t going to eat the dog.”
Jimmy paused and allowed the boy to catch up. “I didn’t think you would,” he said.
Shaw nodded. “Just so Elise knows,” he said. “I want to make sure she knows I would never do that.”
“I’ll make sure she knows,” Jimmy said. “Now c’mon. Let’s hurry.”
Two levels down, Jimmy peeked inside a dark hallway; he played his flashlight across the walls, then turned guiltily to Shaw, who crowded behind him. “Went too far,” Jimmy admitted.
He turned and began climbing back up a level, frustrated with himself. So hard to remember where he put everything. Such a long time ago. He used to have mnemonics for recalling his stashes. He had hidden a rifle way up on level fifty-one. He remembered that because it took a hand to hold the rifle and another finger to pull the trigger. Five and one. That rifle was wrapped in a quilt and buried in the bottom of an old trunk. But he’d left one down here as well. He had carried it down to Supply a lifetime ago; it would’ve been the trip when he found Shadow. Hadn’t carried it all the way back up – not enough hands. One-eighteen. That was it. Not one-nineteen. He hurried up to the landing, his legs getting sore, and went inside the hallway he and Shaw had passed moments prior.
This was it. Apartments. He had left things in lots of them. Poop, mostly. He didn’t know you could go in the farms, right in the dirt. The kids taught him that late in life. Elise taught him. Jimmy thought of people doing something bad to Elise, and he remembered what he’d done to people when he was a boy. He’d been young when he’d taught himself to fire a rifle. He remembered the noise it made. He remembered what it did to empty soup cans and people. It made things jump and fall still. Third apartment down on the left.
“Hold this,” he told Shaw, stepping inside the apartment. He handed his flashlight to the boy, who kept it trained in the center of the room. Jimmy grabbed the metal dresser shoved against one wall and pulled it out a ways. Just like yesterday. Except for the thick dust on the top of the dresser. His old bootprints were gone. He climbed up to the top and pushed the ceiling panel up and to the side, asked for the flashlight. A rat squeaked and scattered as he shined the light in there. The black rifle was waiting on him. Jimmy took it down and blew the dust off.
••••
Elise didn’t like her new clothes. They had taken her coveralls from her, saying the color was all wrong, and had wrapped her in a blanket that was sewn up the front and scratchy. She’d asked to leave several times, but Mr. Rash said she had to stay. There were rooms up and down the halls with old beds, and everything smelled awful, but there were people trying to clean it up and make it better. But Elise just wanted Puppy and Hannah and Solo. She was shown a room and was told it would be her new home, but Elise lived beyond the Wilds and never wanted to live anyplace else.
They took her back to the big room where she’d signed her name and had her sit on the bench some more. If she tried to go, Mr. Rash squeezed her wrist. When she cried, he squeezed even harder. They made her sit on a bench they called something else while a man read from a book. The man with the white robes and the bald patch had left, and a new man had taken his place to read from a book. There was a woman off to the side with two other men, and she didn’t look happy. A lot of people on the benches spent time watching this woman instead of the man reading.
Elise was both sleepy and restless. What she wanted to do was get away and nap somewhere else. And then the man was done reading, and he lifted the book up into the air, and everyone around her said the same thing, which was really strange, as if they all knew they were going to say it beforehand, and their voices were funny and hollow like they knew the words but didn’t know what they meant.
The man with the book waved the men and the woman up, and it seemed almost like they carried her. There were two tables pushed together back near the colored window with the light shining through it. The woman made a noise as they lifted her to the tables. She had a blanket on like Elise’s but bigger, making it easy for the men to expose her bare leg. The people on the benches strained to see better. Elise felt less sleepy than she had before. She whispered to Mr. Rash to find out what they were doing, and he told her to be quiet, not to talk.
The man with the book brought a knife out of his robes. It was long and flashed like a bright fish.
“Be ye fruitful and multiply,” he said. He faced the audience, and the woman moved about on the tables, but she couldn’t go anywhere. Elise wanted to tell them not to hold her wrists so tight.
“Behold,” the man said, reading from the book, “I establish my covenant with you, and with your seed after you.” And Elise wondered if they were going to plant something. And he went on and said, “Neither shall all flesh be cut off anymore. And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the blade shall be seen in the cloud.”