Shadows of Glass (12 page)

“But my father is determined to keep everyone in. Or maybe it’s more that he wants
to keep everyone else out. All he is concerned with is protecting the royals.”

Pace takes Pip from his shoulder. He holds the canary in one hand and strokes the
bright yellow head with the tip of his finger as he stares into the fire. He’s worried
about his mother, who, last we heard, was being held by my father in hopes that Pace
would turn himself in. But that was before everything happened. When my father was
trying to keep the fact that the outside world was habitable a secret.

“He doesn’t need her anymore,” I offer. “Surely he’ll let her go with all the other
madness that has to be going on in there.”

“I hope so,” Pace says. He looks at me and I see the worry plainly written in his
lovely blue eyes. “If only there was some way to find out.”

I have no answers for him. No way to make him feel better, no way to take the worry
away. All I can do is take his hand in mine to let him know I am here for him, just
as he’s been here for me throughout all the madness of the past few days.

“Maybe James and Adam will find a way back in,” Alcide offers.

“I’m never going back in,” Jon says.

I want to agree with Jon but the past few days have taught me that you don’t know
what you will and will not do until the time comes and the consequences of your actions
are placed before you. I can honestly say that I do not want to go back inside the
dome. But after all the lives that were lost, and if it meant saving more lives that
losing them, then I would gladly go back in.

The last few days have taught me that there is a cost for everything and at times
that cost is too high. The one thing I can say with confidence is I never want to
pay that price again.

8

It was easy
for me to fall in love with Pace. Just being with him made it easy. He is kind, generous,
and brave, and he has a wry sense of humor that sneaks up on you. The fact that he
is beautiful to look at made it easy too, although I am certain he would never want
to hear me say that. Every moment that we spent together until we escaped the dome
was precious because we did not know if it would be our last.

“I am so proud of you, Wren,” he says.

I am exhausted. Even though I slept most of the day in the cave, I feel like I cannot
keep my eyes open for another second. James and Adam are still in the tunnel and Alcide
and Jon, with Beau at his side, went down to check on them. It could have caved in
on them, or they could have found a way back into the dome, at the moment I do not
care. I just want to sleep.

Pace and I find a blanket from our supplies that is warm and dry and go to an empty
corner of the basement, with Jonah, as always, trailing behind. One of the lamps glows
softly in the middle of the room, a beacon of comfort for anyone who wakes up in the
middle of the night. Pace puts Pip into his cage as I spread our blanket out on the
stone floor. My body aches for the comfort of my bed, long gone in the flood, or at
least someplace soft to sleep. I cannot help but think of the nest Pace and I made
in our own little cave. There was no mattress, but several blankets and a sandy floor
perfect for comfortable sleeping.

“You are?” I ask. “For what?”

“Your courage,” he says. “Even when you were blinded you never gave up.”

But I did …
I thought my life was over. I was afraid Pace might not want me anymore because I
was blind, and I was scared when I woke up alone. Now I find I’m angry with myself
for doubting him. If only I wasn’t so tired. I don’t know what to say so I give him
a weary smile and lie down on our blanket. Pace stretches out beside me on his side
and puts his arm around my waist. I roll over so I am snuggled up against him. Jonah
promptly settles into the curve made by my body, and his purr joins the other noises
of our shelter.

George lies on his back and his snores are loud enough to drown out any sound that
anyone might make. The children are all snuggled together between Rosalyn and Sally,
except for Freddy, who sticks close to Peter and Nancy. At least Peter is finally
asleep. His coughing has me worried.

As do some other things, and even though my body is exhausted, my mind will not rest.
There are too many things to think about and process. My grandfather told me one time
there was no need to worry about tomorrow, it will be here soon enough with its problems
and I know that it will arrive whether I am ready for it not. We will still have to
face the problems of food, of better shelter, and of just staying alive.

“I pray that we hear some news of your mother,” I say to Pace once more. Surely my
father has let her go with all the other problems that he now has. But then again,
I am not certain that forgiveness is one of his strong suits. If he bears a grudge
against Pace and me, then there is no telling what he may do.

“If only there was some way to find her,” he says. “To know for certain.”

“If only we had some way of talking to those on the inside.” I am so worried about
those who helped us: Lucy, David, Harry, and Jilly. “I need to know if Lucy is all
right. I need to tell her what happened to her parents.” They were among the dead,
as were Alex’s. So many people lost and I want to hold on to the hope that those that
I know are still alive.

We talk quietly, so as not to disturb the others in the room, although I am certain
George’s snores, which seem loud enough to shake the dome, would disturb them first.
We are trying to re-establish the bond we had in the tunnels.

“We will find a way,” he whispers against my ear. I don’t know if he’s saying it for
my benefit, or for himself. I feel him yawn and then he is quiet. His breathing becomes
deeper and I know he’s fallen asleep.

I lie there, listening to Pace’s gentle breathing, the uneven noises coming from George,
and the restless movements of the rest, accompanied by an occasional cough from Peter.
I close my eyes because they burn with exhaustion and then open them again because
I am afraid I will go blind once more. Even though I am so very tired, my body is
used to being awake during the night, and I find sleep, especially under these circumstances,
to be impossible.

As quietly as possible, I leave our makeshift bed. As soon as I move away Pace rolls
onto his back and Jonah slides up against him. I can’t help but smile at how quickly
they compensate for my leaving. I stand for a moment, looking around at the scattered
sleepers, torn between checking on my friends in the tunnel or going outside. And
then I realize for the first time in my life that I
do
have the choice to go outside, so that is where I go.

The rain has stopped. Water drips down rivulets and scatters from the trees with the
breeze. Strange and unfamiliar noises greet my ears, a series of peeps and chirps
rise around me in a strange chorus that must be as natural as the air, yet is a wonder
to me. I know it has to be creatures of some kind and I wonder if they are big or
small, safe or dangerous.

The clouds have parted. Some still trail across the sky and scattered stars drift
through, dazzling me with their presence. I know to call them stars, yet I cannot
perceive their purpose, other than that they are beautiful and fill my soul with a
longing much like the one I had when I stared at the dome in the mornings. The only
way I can identify it is a yearning for
more
. More of what, I do not know.

I make my way into the park where we’d left the animals. The ponies and goats all
stand huddled together beneath the trees. I climb through the barrier we’d rigged
for them and go to Ghost.

“You’ve got to be confused,” I say to him as I comb my fingers through his tangled
mane. “Your world has drastically changed in just moments.” He leans into my side.
“There are new sounds around you, new challenges and you can’t even see them.” One
of the goats nuzzles at my sleeve. “This is a scary place,” I add. “I just hope it’s
the right place for all of us.”

A sound echoes in the distance. A long and mournful sound of
Ooo
over and over again. The ponies stomp nervously and the goats shift around and stare
in the direction of the noise. All of the other creatures that sang to the night suddenly
stop and I hold my breath—in anticipation of what, I do not know. It sounds again
and another joins it, and then another. My mind identifies it as a dog, but I cannot
imagine any dog I’ve ever seen making such a sound, unless it is a large one like
Beau.

Beau is another mystery of this strange world. He has obviously known the love of
a person, or else why would he take to Jon so willingly? The only people that I know
to be outside are the rovers. Yet from what I’ve heard of them, from my father and
Jon, makes me think that they are not the type to love a dog. Anyone who would chain
a person would more than likely treat a dog the same or worse. Whoever owned Beau
loved him enough to make a collar with his name on it, which leads me to think that
there might be others, besides the rovers, who survived the comet. If the trees and
grass could survive, and the creatures that make strange noises around me, and Beau,
who came from somewhere, then why not more people too? People who are like us, who
want to live and let live. People who love and laugh and live their lives morally.
People who do not trade for young men and women and do not tie ropes around necks
and lead them like animals. People who are good.

But what did they have to do to survive? How did they carry on when everything around
them was burned in the flames? What did they eat or drink? Where did they live?

Just thinking of the things that they had to go through generations ago makes me feel
horribly inadequate. How did they feel, seeing the dome rise up from the earth and
knowing that they were not chosen to survive? How desperate they must have been, desperate
enough to find a way inside, as some of them did. Yet the rest did find a way to survive,
not all of them, but enough of them that there are other people about. How different
all of our lives could have been if those who lived inside had chosen to open the
doors when the world became safe again.

I do my best to calm the ponies as the unfamiliar howls have them and the goats spooked.
The ponies move restlessly but the goats are much move vocal about it. They baa their
distress and mill from one side of the pen to the other before they all stop and stare
off into the darkness with their ears pitched forward.

I dare to think, no hope, for a moment that someone from our group has come in search
of me. Then I realize that the goats stand with their backs to the dome, as do the
ponies. They sense something that I do not, and the direction it comes from makes
me realize that it is someone or something I do not know.

Ghost whinnies and stomps his foot, and I shiver in fear. Whatever or whoever is out
there surely knows where we are now. I put my hand on Ghost’s nose and look out into
the darkness. I see the trees, standing straight and tall even though they are random
in their growth. Shadows fill the spaces in between. Then I see movement, nothing
more than another shadow that darts from tree to tree.

I crouch among the ponies. I am confident that whoever it is will not be able to see
me until they are right on top of me. And if they can see me now then it has to be
a shiner and I have nothing to fear. From my position I see a pair of legs moving
between the trees. The ponies sense something and move restlessly about while the
goats still peer into the darkness.

I need to do something, but I don’t know what. I cannot tell if it’s friend or foe.
I scan the darkness to see if there is anyone else about. All I see is the one pair
of legs that is getting closer and closer. It has to be a man by the size of the feet.
I look around again to make sure there is only one person.

He stops when he gets to the branches we’d set up to keep the goats and ponies contained.
I watch as he moves one branch, then he steps into the pen. All the animals move back
as far away from him as they can get, and I join in the shuffle to make sure I am
far away from him as well while still staying with the ponies, who roll their eyes
wildly at his unfamiliar scent.

I smell him too. Odor from his body washes over me and my stomach turns at the sourness
of it. I try to see his face but it is next to impossible with the animals milling
about. A goat baas in protest as he grabs its horn and tries to pull it away from
the rest of the herd. The goat braces its legs as he yanks on it, and finally the
man gives up and picks the goat up in his arms. The goat bucks and tries to wrestle
away, but the man is strong and keeps the goat in a tight hold. As he stands up with
his burden I get a good look at him. His hair is long and unkempt and his face is
covered with a beard.

He’s a rover, he has to be. He fits the description of the group Jon told us about.

He’s stealing our goat. I am suddenly filled with such anger that someone would just
walk up and have the audacity to take something that clearly isn’t his.

“I’ll be back for the rest of you lot later,” he says to the herd as he kicks the
branches that he moved back into place. “And you are all the proof I need to get them
to believe me,” he says to the goat in his arms.

His words sink in. He will come back. There are more of them. If more come back what
chance to we have against them? They will steal our goats and our ponies. We need
the goats for milk and for cheese and as a last resort for food. And the ponies? The
ponies are in my care. Just because we no longer work the coal does not mean I will
abandon them, especially to someone cruel enough to put a rope around a person’s neck.

I climb through the fence opposite where the man came through. I do not have a plan
beyond I have to keep him from stealing the goat whose piteous cries I can hear from
the trees. The other goats call out in answer, crying for him to come back. I run
round the pen, without worry for the noise I make because I know the noise of the
goats will hide it. I see him ahead of me, struggling to keep the goat from jumping
out of his arms.