Wanderers (28 page)

Still, until she knew more about their hosts, she disliked the idea of being beholden to them.

After they had finished dressing, the girls and Kai went into the hall, where a smiling Bao was waiting. She led them down to an open area on the second floor, where a long table was set with a blue cloth, white plates, and crystal goblets.

Eli, Joseph, and Silas were already seated there. Esther almost didn't recognize them; they too looked much cleaner, their hair still damp. And like the girls, they were dressed in unfamiliar new clothes: colorful shirts, baggy belted shorts, and running shoes.

There was something else about them that seemed strange. Esther had to think about it for a moment before she figured it out.

For the first time in her life, her friends looked
young.

“Look.” As the girls took their seats, a beaming Joseph, dressed in an unfamiliar jacket, modeled two new watches he wore on his arm. “They said I could take as many as I wanted, but I didn't want to be greedy.”

“And I got new shoes,” added Silas, sticking out a foot. Even Eli seemed proud of how he looked, his hair slicked down and his face shining. He smiled at Esther as she slipped into the chair to his left.

Several adults were already bringing in large platters, which they placed in front of the travelers. Famished, Kai was already fussing, sucking on his fist and squirming in a plastic baby seat. Yet when everyone picked up their forks to eat, they hesitated, confused and appalled.

It wasn't food.

Eli prodded the objects on his plate with his finger. They were colors food wasn't meant to be: orange, green, yellow, red. And everything had a peculiar odor, too.

It smells like wet leaves,
Esther thought with dismay.

From where they stood, the adults chuckled.

“They've never seen vegetables before,” whispered one man. Another murmured in the strange language and again, they all laughed.

Silas overheard this, and his face flushed with annoyance. With his fork, he stabbed a small, brown sphere from a bowl full of them. Defiantly, he popped it in his mouth and chewed as the others watched.

“It don't taste like much,” he said, his mouth full. Then he swallowed and smiled. “But it ain't bad.”

After that, everyone began eating, at first with caution, then with desperate hunger. Within moments, there were no sounds but chewing and swallowing, and the clank of silverware on plates.

Yet although she too was starving, Esther could only manage a few bites, chewing over and over before she could swallow.

Being here felt unreal, like a hallucination brought on by a bad fever. She and her people had traveled for weeks on the open road, suffering unspeakable losses to get to this place, fueled by dreams of its perfection. But what had they found?

Yes, there was great wealth here, the kind Esther had never imagined possible. The dinner alone could feed three or four times as many and the stores could clothe hundreds, if not thousands, more. The adults had even discovered how to procure the most valuable luxury of all, old age. Yet mere feet away, the city outside seemed a terrifying wasteland of the walking dead.

If there was abundance, it was obviously reserved for the very few. And there was no guarantee that it was meant for
them.

Esther's thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of gunfire. She glanced up, startled, but none of her friends seemed to have noticed. Only Inna, who stood with the other adults, caught her eye and smiled.

“Don't worry,” she said. “You're safe here. We're very vigilant.”

Esther smiled back. But knowing the woman was now watching her, she became self-conscious about not eating and so picked up her fork again.

She wasn't the only one having trouble with what was served. Joseph, seated across from her, was fussing with something in his lap. It turned out to be his cat. Released from her carrier at last, Stumpy was wriggling about in a desperate attempt to escape as Joseph tried to get her to eat.

“Excuse me.” Flustered, Joseph turned to Inna, who came forward smiling. “I'm afraid my friend doesn't like vegetables. Do you have anything else I could feed her?”

“Your friend?” When Inna saw the animal, her smile froze and a look of distaste crossed her face.

“No,” she said. Her voice was stiff. “I'm afraid not.”

Joseph was too distracted by Stumpy to notice. “She likes meat,” he explained, extricating his cat's claws from the tablecloth. “Do you have any meat around here? Squirrel or rabbit?”

“I said, no.” At the sharpness of her tone, Michal and Silas glanced up. Inna lowered her voice and continued. “What I meant was, we almost never go outside anymore . . . it's much too dangerous. So we only have it on very rare occasions, when we're lucky to come across it. It's a real treat.”

By now, it had grown dark, and candles were brought in and lit. Everyone had eaten their fill and as the adults led them away from the table, there was much talk and laughter—the first Esther had heard in many days. Here friends were so happy, it seemed wrong to share her concerns with them.

Esther was the last to leave; she was having trouble unfastening the straps that held Kai in his special chair. Much of his food was still on his face, and he was falling asleep. The others had disappeared up the stairs, casting long shadows against the walls as their voices echoed and faded. Esther was about to join them, when out of the dimness, Inna spoke.

“Esther,” she said. “May I?”

The woman stepped into the light. Smiling at Kai, she extended her arms. “Just for a few moments?”

Esther hesitated. Ever since her encounter with Lewt, she had been loath to let the child leave her arms for even a moment. Yet Inna seemed so gentle that Esther handed him over.

The woman took him as if he were a precious gift, nuzzling into his neck as she held him close against her shoulder. Then she rocked him, stroking his head and murmuring words Esther could not hear.

“Aren't there any babies in Mundreel?” she asked.

Inna glanced up, puzzled, then laughed.

“Montreal,” she corrected. The word sounded strange to Esther, yet exotic and pretty.
Montreal.
“And no . . . at least not in the District. We've all tried, of course. But now that we're older, we've pretty much given up.”

Esther nodded. In Prin, pregnancy had been a rare event, too. “I'm sorry,” she tried to say, but her voice was faint.

Watching Inna and Kai had given her a strange feeling. The image of woman and child seemed both familiar and foreign, comforting and disturbing at the same time. Without warning, a wave of nausea passed over her. She gripped the arms of her chair, to steady herself.

The candlelight threw deep shadows across Inna's face. She was now speaking of the other adults and their home together, and Esther did her best to listen. But a distant buzzing sound obscured Inna's words. Esther had the impression that she was standing far away, at the end of a dark tunnel. Without warning, it tilted to one side.

Esther's insides lurched, and a sour taste flooded her mouth. She pushed away from the table, but it was too late. Retching, she threw up the meager contents of her stomach on the linen tablecloth, the brocade chair, and her dinner plate. Even when there was no more, her insides continued to heave.

When it was over, Esther sat back, appalled. “I'm so sorry,” she stammered. The beautiful remains of the dinner party were now sodden and reeking. Mortified, she picked up her napkin and attempted to wipe the table clean. But Inna took it away from her, gently but firmly.

“I'm the one who should apologize.” The older woman dipped a clean corner of the cloth in a water goblet and, without asking, used it to blot Esther's mouth. “You haven't eaten in days, and you're not accustomed to vegetables. I should have been more careful.”

“Thank you,” Esther tried to say. But instead of feeling better, she only grew dizzier. When she tried to stand, her eyes rolled up in her head as her knees buckled. Without a sound, she dropped to the floor.

When she woke up, Esther had no idea where she was.

In the darkness, she was being carried in arms that were strong yet soft, cradled against a breast that smelled of roses. Instinctively, she tried to struggle her way free. Yet as she stirred, a voice from above spoke to her.

“Shhh.” It was Inna. “You need to get some sleep. Just rest.”

“Where's Kai?”

“Don't worry . . . he's right here. Everything will be all right.”

“Give him to me. I can walk.” Stubbornly, Esther attempted once more to break loose, yet found she lacked the strength. Weak as a newborn, she had no choice but to allow herself to be held.

And to her surprise, it felt good. For the first time in months, Esther sensed her tension and suspicion start to ease, lulled by the rocking motion of Inna climbing the steep steps, one at a time.

Inna brought her to a darkened room on the top floor. With Kai strapped onto her back, the older woman set Esther down on a bed that had been freshly made with clean sheets and a thick blanket. Esther noted two other cots nearby holding motionless silhouettes, probably Skar and Michal.

As Esther sank into the exquisite softness of the mattress, the woman sat next to her, a sleeping Kai still in his harness, and stroked Esther's hair with a gossamer touch.

“Inna.” Still weak, Esther could only whisper. “Have others lived in the District with you?”

Inna exhaled. “Many have wanted to.”

“Can we?”

“We'll see,” was all she said.

Was she dreaming?
Esther wasn't sure. In the dim light, it seemed that the older woman smiled. As she fell asleep, Esther realized she was smiling, too.

She did not stop to wonder where her rifle was.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

J
OSEPH HADN'T INTENDED TO WANDER OFF
.

He, Eli, and Silas had been assigned the job of polishing the intricate metal railings that bracketed the mall. Eli had been accustomed to much harder labor in Prin. Even Silas seemed to have no problem with the arrangement. But Joseph was unused to chores of any kind and soon decided it was tedious and unpleasant.

Cleaning was one of the work assignments Esther had handed out that morning.

“Inna says we can stay, but only if we work for it.” When Esther made the announcement, the travelers were eating breakfast by themselves, an enormous feast of flatbread and honey, coffee with sugar, and sweet, slippery objects called “fruit.” Her face was flushed with excitement and her eyes sparkled as she continued. “They tried it a few times with others, only it never worked out. So this is our chance.”

Her joy was contagious. Save for Skar, everyone smiled and exclaimed, grateful for the opportunity and determined not to fail.

Half an hour later, Joseph and the other boys were on their knees, outfitted with soft cloths and rectangular cans of a strong-smelling cleaner.

Two men named Tahir and Uli supervised their efforts. Although he tried not to stare, Joseph was fascinated by their clothing. Both men wore pants and matching jackets in dark blue or gray, with black shoes that shined as brightly as the handrails. Their soft, silk shirts were each fastened at the throat with a thin, colorful cloth.
A necktie.
The word popped into Joseph's mind from some forgotten source, probably an old magazine he had once read. The men did little but sit on benches against the wall and chat with one another, only getting up when the boys were ready to move on to another section.

Joseph had just finished cleaning an especially ornate piece of scrollwork. Now he stood, easing his back and knees and flexing his fingers; the work was painful, as well. While two floors were nearly done, that meant two were left. As Joseph wondered how soon it would be until lunchtime, his eye was caught by something farther down the hall.

The men were not watching him, so he ambled toward it.

The window display featured large, faded photographs of pretty girls with big eyes, tousled hair and pouty lips, all wearing miniscule pieces of clothing. Such pictures made Joseph blush, and they were not what had drawn him there. Going closer, he saw that his first impression had been right. In the store, all of the crowded display racks across the far wall had been pushed to the side. In their place was a desk with equipment on it, as well as several big metal filing cabinets. Next to them were four sets of shelves.

They were full of books.

Joseph was thrilled. Other than Esther's copy of
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,
he had not seen a single book since leaving Prin. Surely no one would mind if he went in and took a quick peek. The security gate had been pushed up and locked into place. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he slipped inside and stole his way to the back.

After several minutes of skimming the titles, however, his joy evaporated. For although Joseph wasn't a picky reader, even he had to admit it was a horrible selection.

Joseph liked books that involved history, cats, Vikings, large families, clocks and clock-making, ghosts, or time travel. He also had a soft spot for dictionaries, cookbooks, and collections of jokes and riddles. Yet the titles he found were tedious instruction manuals on subjects he had never heard of: mechanics, electrical wiring, hydroponic gardening, water filtration systems.

It was very disappointing.

Joseph continued to scan shelf after shelf, looking in vain for anything of interest. He was about to give up when he saw something perched on the very top: a large cardboard box pushed into the far corner. It was heavy; standing on a chair, he was only just able to lift it down, sneezing at the dust he stirred up.

It was crammed full of old magazines and newspapers. They were yellowed and crumbling and smelled of mildew; still, they were in far better shape than the ones he had once collected for his library.