Guardians (7 page)

Gideon told him the chore would be easiest if he worked quickly, without thinking. So as he stepped toward his target, Eli swung the weapon once, as hard as he could. At the last second, however, he couldn't help but flinch, and the blow, aimed at Aras's temple, hit his forehead instead. Still the single crack of wood hitting bone was shockingly loud, and Aras staggered backward before slumping to the ground.

It was done. Eli put a hand to his mouth and reeled backward.

He too felt as if he was going to black out; he was light-headed and his heart pounded madly. Then he noticed Pilot, and his adrenaline spiked even higher, snapping him back to alertness. The dog had lowered to his haunches, growling, his fur rising in spikes along his back. Then he sprang with unbelievable speed.

Terrified, Eli lashed out blindly with his club, raining blows on the animal in an attempt to ward him off. He felt rather than heard the repeated thuds as he made contact again and again with ribs, bone, teeth. Finally, he knocked the dog to the ground with a final blow, where he lay
whimpering, his chest heaving up and down.

There was no time to lose.

Eli dropped the club. Then he bent over and blotted up the single drop of red that had trickled from Aras's bleeding face to the floor. Grunting, soaked with sweat, he grabbed the body by the ankles and began to drag it down the hall and around one and then a second corner.

In the middle of the third section of corridor were the twin sets of metal doors: “the elevators,” Joseph called them. Although there were no handles, Eli knew what to do. As instructed, he pulled a metal tool from his back pocket, inserted the sharp, flat edge into the seam, and used it to pry open the panels an inch or so, enough to get his fingers in. Then he managed to pull back one door. He didn't look down; a great black hole loomed below.

Eli yanked Aras's leaden body as close as he could, turning him so his back pointed toward the opening. As a result, he found himself inches away from the dead boy's face. Aras's dark glasses had tumbled off and for the first time, Eli saw the pale, raised scars across his eyelids and the bridge of his nose. The markings stood out on the dark skin, making him seem vulnerable and oddly young. Blanching, Eli had turned away and was about to push him in when a sudden spasm shook his hands.

To Eli's horror, Aras was struggling to sit up.
Was he alive? How was that possible?

With a cry of terror, Eli fought back.

He wrestled Aras with one hand as he frantically felt around
behind him for a weapon, any weapon.
He had left his club back in the hall,
he realized too late as the other boy clawed at him with desperate strength, the two of them teetering on the brink of the abyss.

With relief that was nearly hysterical, Eli felt his fingers close on the small metal lever he had used to pry open the door. At that instant, Aras's hand landed on his face. But his touch was soft as his fingers scrabbled across Eli's features, reading them with swift assurance.

Then the blind boy gasped.

“Eli?”

Eli went numb with shock. To erase the moment, he brought the weapon from behind him and cracked Aras across the head as hard as he could. The boy slumped, but his hand fell to Eli's arm and stayed there, twitching.

Shrieking, Eli kicked at Aras's ribs to free himself. As he scrambled to his feet, he rained more blows on him, knocking the boy backward into the dark.

Eli stood, quivering, at the brink of the shaft. For what seemed like forever, the only sound was his harsh and ragged breath. Then, dimly, he heard a faraway explosion that seemed to shake the entire building. After a second to collect himself, he tossed in the metal bar as well.

Eli wiped his soaked face with the back of his hand, staring at his shredded shirt. He knew he wasn't finished, not quite yet. He had to get rid of the club and make certain there were no signs of the struggle. Last but not least, he also had to dispose of the dog's body. Yet when he returned to the place he
had left it, his mind froze.

Pilot was gone.

Panicked, Eli glanced around. No one had returned; the hall was as silent as it had been before. Working quickly, he smoothed away the tracks he had left when dragging Aras's body, disposed of the club, and closed the elevator panels. Then he saw it: a telltale trail made of darkening flecks of blood, almost too tiny to see, that led in a crooked path down the hall and through the open door to the stairway.

Eli hesitated for a moment. Then he shook his head.
It was only a dog, after all
. And the worst part was over. His job was done.

He was about to leave when he noticed something odd about his hands. Frowning, he held them close to his eyes. They were stained a dark brown, the color of rust. Although he rubbed at them for a moment, he couldn't seem to remove the marks.

He realized what it was, of course: blood. Aras's blood. For a moment, Eli stood stock-still, trying to fight down the hysteria that was rising from deep within.

Then he took a deep and shaky breath. He would be fine. He would wash off the marks and no one would ever know what had happened.

And Gideon would be so pleased to hear the news.

Eli headed to the stairs. The last thing he did was pull away the stick he had left to prop open the metal door. It swung shut and the hallway was once again silent.

T
HE SMELL OF SCORCHING FOOD FILLED THE AIR
.

“Watch it,” said Silas. Reaching across Esther with a fork, he speared a piece of flatbread that was in danger of catching on fire and shot her a concerned look. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Esther mumbled. “Sorry.”

Bleary, she squinted her eyes hard and shook her head in an attempt to wake herself up. She was helping prepare breakfast but had been close to nodding off several times as she knelt over the firebowl. Picking up the basket of sorry-looking bread she had just cooked, Esther tried to stand but stumbled, dropping the entire contents onto the ground.

Skar was already at her side. “Why don't you sit?” she murmured as she stooped to pick up the blackened food. “I can take over.”

Numb, Esther could only nod as her friend slipped into her place. As Esther crossed the roof where she and the others prepared and took all their meals, she could sense a few of them looking up from their plates and glancing at her with sympathy.

She looked awful, she knew; her eyes were bloodshot and deeply ringed, and her skin was ashy. It was no surprise; Esther had barely slept in days. The fighting with Aras had kept her from closing her eyes for more than a few moments at a time. But last evening had been the worst.

For the second night in a row, Aras hadn't come home at all.

After Esther fed and put Kai and Sarah to bed, she had waited. She stayed up for hours, her bare feet silent as she paced back and forth across the carpeted floor, her ears keyed in vain to the familiar jingle of Pilot's chain in the hallway. Then she sat on the floor with her back pressed against the cold wall. Other than the soft sounds of her children sleeping across the room, no noise arose from the cavernous mall below. She had watched the moon travel across the night sky through the huge windows until it disappeared. The dark expanse grew light with dawn, and still Aras had not returned.

Now Esther fussed over the baby, trying not to meet anyone's gaze. She knew the others were aware of Aras's absence. Joseph, for one, was openly staring at her with a look of consternation. But the last thing she wanted was anyone's sympathy.
What she needed most of all was to see her partner again. As concerned as she was for their relationship, she was also sick with worry. Aras was adept at navigating the world without sight, but she knew anything could happen, especially if he was smoking again.

Once Esther made certain that Kai had finished his bread and fruit and that Sarah had drunk her fill, she got to her feet. After asking Michal if she would watch over the children, Esther slipped downstairs.

As she feared, the long, dim hallway was empty. The sunlight pouring in at the windows on either end revealed only the beige carpeting, embedded with the faint impressions of countless footprints. Esther and Aras's room was empty, too.

Although there was much work to do on the roof, she had no other choice: She had to search for him. Her children were safe for now, although the thought of Michal's constant generosity again gave her a pang. Esther headed for the staircase and began the long and arduous process of checking the entire building.

She went down to the levels directly below their living quarters, places she and the others had barely visited: long, dim hallways identical to their own, lined with anonymous doors made of the same blond wood. Many of them were still locked. The few rooms that she could enter seemed to be preserved in time, their dusty desks and chairs frozen in place and their surfaces orderly with wire baskets still filled with yellowing paper, containers full of pens and pencils, framed photographs, and
strange machines and contraptions whose purpose she could not begin to guess. Even the air seemed from another era. It was clear no one had been inside for many months, perhaps years.

By the time she made it down to the top floor of the mall, she saw it was already bustling with activity. The glass system had just started two days before. Even though the remains of shops still carried some clothing, food, and mysterious items of entertainment and recreation, the majority of goods had now been moved out and placed on tables in the main hall. Beside them was food from the garden, vegetables and fruit in baskets and boxes. As she and Gideon had planned, everything had been made to look as appealing as possible, to attract buyers with pieces of glass.

More than a few workers stopped to greet her; some whispered as she passed by, their expressions shy and grateful. She saw that there were many unfamiliar faces at work: sweeping the floor, repairing a broken window, tending the generator. Clearly, these were Outsiders, now toiling for glass. Gideon had suggested this arrangement, and it seemed to be working; everyone appeared happy and busy, and the place gleamed. Still, that was not what mattered to Esther; at the moment, she had only one thing on her mind.

She gave her well-wishers an automatic smile and kept going.

But it was no use. A thorough search of the basement level, including even the foul garage, revealed what she had already feared: Aras was nowhere.

She stood alone and uncertain what to do next. What if Aras was not hurt or lost but staying away on purpose?
If she had any pride,
she thought,
then she should go upstairs and act as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Aras was bound to return at some point. If he was attempting to punish her, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing how worried he had made her, how miserable
.

That was something she would have done if she were younger. But Esther understood from bitter experience that pride was not only childish but foolish. It meant you assumed the other person would always be there no matter what, a belief that was foolhardy even in safe and prosperous times. Life was too uncertain to ever take anyone for granted or to harbor anger against someone you loved. And as she thought this, she realized she still had one place left to look.

The house. Their house
.

Esther slipped out of a side door and took off. Although Aras had led her and the children the one time they had gone, she still had a good sense of direction and knew which way to head. Esther was surprised by how good it felt to run: It was mindless yet exhilarating, as if she were fleeing her troubles. She put on speed and covered the distance so quickly, she nearly overshot the street she sought. Only at the last moment did she recognize the abandoned lot on the corner, and she skidded to a stop.

Breathless, Esther approached the small building, her heart pounding. She forced herself to be calm and not to get her hopes up as she took hold of the doorknob. Then she stood inside the front entrance. It looked untouched since
the last time they had been there, but she still strained her ears to hear if anyone was at home.

“Hello?”

The silence was stark; even the mice or birds had stopped their activity inside the walls and chimney. Without hesitation, Esther ran through the house, quickly checking each room. The idea that Aras was waiting for her up on the roof grew stronger until it became a kind of magical belief. Her heart pounding, Esther flew up the final small staircase and paused before pushing open the heavy glass door.

He wasn't there.

As Esther stood staring out at the empty expanse, disappointment and exhaustion hit her like a physical blow. Then she heard something downstairs: the banging of a door.

“Aras?”

Esther was already at the door, cocking her head to hear better.
Yes,
she realized with a jolt of hope,
someone was definitely downstairs
. “Aras!” She bounded down the steps two at a time, racing down the hall and rounding the corner, and thundering down the final stairs. Her relief was so enormous, she could not keep a huge smile from her face.

And then she stopped.

A stranger was standing in the front hallway, wrapped in sheets worn as protection against the sun. When it pushed down the hood from its face, Esther saw with a sense of crushing disappointment that it was no one she knew: only a girl about her age, pretty, with thick, wavy dark hair and big eyes.

“Esther,” she said.

The visitor was clearly from the mall; there was no other way she would know Esther's name. But how had she managed to find her way there? As if reading her thoughts, the girl spoke.

“I'm Nur. I saw you go and I followed.” She smiled. “I got a bike, and you still go faster.”

It was true; Nur's cheeks were bright pink and she was out of breath. Yet despite the stranger's friendly words, Esther was on guard. Now she vaguely remembered having seen her before: She was one of Gideon's Insurgents. “What do you want?”

Nur's expression turned serious. “I got to talk with you. Away from the others. It personal.” She hesitated. “It about your partner.”

Esther froze. Nur crossed to the stairs and sat on the lowest one. She glanced down as she pulled the robes out from under her feet. She didn't seem to want to look Esther in the eye. “He friend with my friend.”

“Who's your friend? What's his name?”

Nur shot her a look. “
Her
name.” She busied herself again with her sheets as Esther took in the meaning of her words. “Ruth.”

A girl
.

“Where is he?” she finally asked.

“That what I try to say.” Clasping her hands in her lap as if for courage, Nur stared straight up at Esther for the first time. “They both gone. Together.”

Esther blinked; the words made no sense. “Gone?” she said stupidly. “What do you mean?”

“Gone.” Nur lifted her hands in the air. “Last night they go. I don't know where. But it for good. My friend told me.”

“Your friend . . .”

“I tried to stop her,” Nur added. And she seemed genuinely sorry; her face was flushed and her eyes bright. “Ain't right to steal someone's partner. But she don't care. She say they in love.”

Esther swallowed; when she tried to respond, her throat was so dry it was nearly impossible to choke out the words. “I don't believe it.” But as she spoke, she saw something out of the corner of her eye, a spot of color. She whirled around and realized what it was: a ragged bit of cloth lying as if tossed in the corner of the front hallway. Even as she crossed to pick it up, she knew what it was, and at once, Esther gave a low cry.

It was Aras's partnering tie.

Esther reached out and her fingers closed on the familiar strip of cloth, the twin of what she wore on her own wrist. As she pulled it free and crushed it against her face, she could hear nothing else but the sound of her heart, hammering within her chest, and all she could feel was anguish.

“How long was it going on?”

Nur shrugged as if to say,
What did it matter?
“Long enough.”

Esther could only nod, her face expressionless.

Another girl . . . That would explain the late nights, the long silences. The fights
.
The smoke and perfume
. With a fresh shock, she recalled their last encounter, their angry words.
She had dared him to leave. And now he was gone
.

She thought of Kai and little Sarah . . . and for the first time,
Esther experienced a flare of rage. Aras had abandoned not only her, but two innocents who needed his love and care. And all for someone else.

Nur had risen and was standing in front of her, her face full of pity and another expression Esther couldn't name. “You all right?” she asked, placing a hand on Esther's arm. Esther shook it off.

“Why did you tell me this?” Despite her efforts, Esther's voice broke.

“Because. You our leader. And you got to know.”

There was nothing left to say. Nur pulled her hood back up over her face and slipped out the door.

Esther was left standing in the shell of what was to have been her home, a refuge she had avoided accepting. How much of this was her fault? She felt something new, a dizzying sense of guilt.

She waited until the clanking of Nur's bicycle faded away.

And then Esther broke down and cried.

Gideon was alone in his locked office, tallying up his glass pieces. He trusted no one else to count them, not even Eli.

Every day, several of Gideon's Insurgents brought in the pebbles, heaped in cardboard crates, and dumped them on the tiled floor. Thanks to the system of calculation he had asked Joseph to teach him, Gideon now knew exactly how much he was paying out and how much he was taking in.

He paused now to admire the quantity of fragments. They were piled in glistening heaps, catching the light that streamed
through a translucent window and casting a greenish glow on the white tiled floor. It wasn't their beauty he was contemplating; the glass was essentially a pile of trash. What was remarkable was that he alone had given value to something so worthless. It had started as nothing more than a hunch. But the system was already starting to flourish.

It turned out that these glittering pieces of green could make others work for you and get you what you wanted. In short, the pebbles could give you power.

Gideon had seen the way Esther convinced the others to embrace the new system. Instead of calling a large meeting, as he would have done, she had gone person by person, talking to people both inside the District and out. Esther used simple words and short sentences. She also allowed the others to ask questions, which she answered with patience. By doing so, she had managed to win over even the most stupid and fearful. It had taken her more than a week, but by the end, everyone accepted the new way without question.

It was clear that people responded to Esther as they never would to him. If anyone could persuade even more to come around to his way of thinking, it was she. With her influence, he would soon be in the position he wanted.

And now that Aras was gone, so was his final obstacle.

There was a knock at the door.

“Who?” Expectant, he set aside his notebook and flexed his fingers, his hand cramped from clutching the pencil. There was silence and then a girl spoke.