Wanderers (36 page)

“If I let you live . . . will you teach us?”

Inna looked uncomprehending. “What do you mean?”

“You know.” Esther thought of all the adults had accomplished, what they had built from nothing. They had years of valuable experience and knowledge between them, decades' worth. “We'll let you stay here. But only if you teach us what you know.”

Inna blinked, rapidly. Her eyes flickered to those of her partner. He gave a faint shrug, as if to say, Why not?

“So is it a deal?” Esther lowered the bucket, extended her hand and waited. An eternity seemed to pass before Inna nodded.

“It's a deal.” The woman looked older now, much older than Esther had ever seen her. And yet she seemed relieved, too. She was about to grasp Esther's hand, when something made them both look up.

The noises were faint, yet impossible to miss, rising up from the cement stairwell: shouting and cheering mixed with the sounds of glass breaking and heavy objects being toppled. Esther became aware of the smell of something burning. Only then did she notice the wisps of smoke that seemed to be rising from the building beneath them. A faint tremor passed through the roof once, then twice.

The Insurgents had arrived.

They had not stayed outside, as Esther had asked. Instead, with no one to stop them, they were already taking over.

“I see,” Inna said, her eyes narrowing. She had already withdrawn her hand.

“No.” Esther was confused, appalled. “I told them to stay away. I told them to—”

“Very clever. You lure us up here and convince us to get rid of our weapons. All the while your friends are breaking in, to destroy everything. It's brilliant, really.”

“No—I didn't. You have to believe me . . .”

Inna reached forward. Before Esther could stop her, she plunged one hand into the bucket, her bracelets clanking against the metal. Scooping up a handful of its water, she dragged it across her own face, leaving a shining trail that dripped from her forehead, ran across her eyes, and into her mouth.

“My terms,” she said.

Across the room, the others gasped. But Inna ignored them. Still poised and collected, she turned to the person most familiar to her.

Ramon stepped forward. He took Inna's wet hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the palm. Then he too brought it to his face and brushed it there, letting the poison drip into his eyes and mouth.

“I . . . please.” Esther was so stunned, she could barely speak. “Stop. You don't know what you're—”

But Inna didn't stop. She turned to the other adults, who quailed as they clung to one another, shocked.

“Your turn,” she said.

No one moved. Incensed, Inna grabbed and twisted the bucket out of Esther's grasp. Then she hurled the contents, dousing them all.

As they shrieked, Inna threw the empty receptacle onto the ground, where it clanged with finality. Then she took hold of Ramon's hand and started for the exit. No one made an effort to stop them.

Bao wept openly, trying to dry herself off with her scarf. The others stood as if made of stone, disbelief written across their faces.

As Kai cowered behind her, Esther stared at the ones left behind. But she couldn't stay. The sounds of destruction had grown even louder and she had to find her friends.

Holding the child's hand, Esther headed to the stairs.

By the time Esther reached the fourth floor, the clamor had grown ever greater.

Dozens of Insurgents swarmed the marble halls like an army of vengeful skeletons arisen from the dead. They ransacked stores in a blind frenzy, grabbing whatever they could find— clothes, shoes, belts. Others used torches to set them on fire and the air was full of the stench of burning cloth and leather. Insurgents wrenched bars off the same railings Eli and the others had polished with such care only days before. They used them to smash windows, while others tossed display tables and racks over balconies. It was impossible to hear over the sounds of destruction.

Esther spied a familiar group huddled together far below, on the ground floor: Skar, Michal, Silas, and Eli stood by an exit. To her vast relief, they all seemed safe. But even as she realized that Joseph was not among them, Esther became aware of a commotion coming from the third floor.

She thought she recognized her friend's voice.

With Insurgents running past her, Esther fought her way through the crowd and down a flight of the metal steps. As she moved, she was met by billowing waves of smoke. They filled the mall floors, rolling toward her like a thick, white carpet. Choking and coughing, she kept following it until she saw where it was coming from.

It was a store that was completely ablaze. Silhouetted against the flames was Joseph, trying to get in.

Esther sprang at him and grabbed him by the arm. “Joseph—no!” Although smaller than he was, she was much stronger. Yet Joseph fought her with a ferocity she didn't know he possessed.

“The records!” he kept shouting. “The records! I have to save them!”

She finally succeeded in pulling him away. He was trembling, his face wet with tears. Although the fire was already beginning to die down, nothing was left inside the small enclosure other than charred embers and giant pieces of soot that wafted through the air.

“Now no one will know.” Joseph spoke with a grief Esther had not known he was capable of. “No one will know . . . except me.” Like Inna, he too looked suddenly older than his years . . . and afraid.

Esther put her arm around him, although she knew well the limits of comfort. Then she retrieved the cat carrier that had been pushed to the side. Handing it to him, she led the weeping boy away from what had once been the library.

It was only when she caught up with the others that she understood what had happened.
Gideon had deliberately ignored her instructions. Once Aras had shown them the way in, the Insurgent leader had taken full advantage of it. He and Nur came in through the basement, as directed, and then opened the main doors to their friends outside.

“They don't aim to harm anyone,” Eli said. He was watching the destruction with interest, even excitement. “They even let Inna and Ramon go past them and leave.”

Esther glanced up sharply. “Did she say anything?”

“Just good-bye.”

Esther gazed out the door. But if she was expecting to see Inna and Ramon, she was mistaken.

Someone else was standing across the street. It was a thin, dark boy with long hair and sunglasses. Sitting by his feet was an animal that seemed half wolf, looking up at him with an expectant expression.

Esther ran to greet Aras. She pushed past Insurgents, squeezing and shoving her way through the mob that clogged the entry. Once outside, she raced across the street, only remembering at the last second how much Aras hated to be snuck up on.

“It's me,” was all she said.

And then she was in his arms.

The first crop of radishes, their tops lush and leafy, was almost ready to harvest.

Standing over them, Esther felt a wave of pride she didn't know was possible. For six weeks earlier, the flourishing garden that surrounded her had been nearly destroyed.

When the Insurgents had invaded, one of the last things they did was ransack the roof. Once they realized that the plants growing there were edible, they had plundered it: eating what they could and fighting over everything else. They upended planters, smashed glass panes, and trampled fruits and vegetables. It had been impossible to stop them.

One thing that escaped the rampage was a large cabinet in the corner. The Insurgents knew nothing about the tens of thousands of seeds, safely locked up behind its metal doors. And for that, Esther was still grateful. It had taken Silas nearly an entire day to break into it.

Esther had only learned about the seeds much later, from Bao and Uli. They were the two adults who had asked to stay. Esther had promised to take care of them in their final days, alone, for others were too afraid to help. In return, they talked.

As the disease took hold and they began to sicken, Bao and Uli shared all that they knew. In failing voices, they described how to plant and compost; how to tame the sun's rays; when to reap; and how to prepare and preserve what they harvested. And they also talked about the past: not only the world they had once known and the marvels it held, but their own lives, as well. Intrigued, Joseph dared to join them; his face wrapped tightly with a scarf against infection, he stood at a distance, scribbling down as much as he could.
The tales they told,
he thought,
were as magical as anything found in Oz.

Esther, Aras, Skar, Silas, Michal, and Joseph were able to repair the ruined garden. Following the adults' instructions, they replaced broken panes of glass, fixed the leaks in the draining system, and tried to replant everything that had been eaten or destroyed. At first, Gideon had mocked their efforts. Yet now, weeks later, Esther and their friends were ready to reap the rewards of their hard work.

“What am I holding?” Aras now asked as he brushed his hand over the lush greens, grazing hers.

“Beets. Radishes. Squash.” Esther guided him from one container to another, then paused. “Our future.” She interlaced her fingers with his.

The two were still not partnered, although they had grown closer than ever. Aras had asked her, shyly, the first night they were together; and Esther had spoken the truth.

“I still need time,” she had said.

It wasn't the memory of Caleb that held her back; it was the knowledge of what was growing inside of her. Esther wanted to be certain that her unborn child had all of the energy she had left after taking care of Kai and the others. Yet more and more, she realized she was being foolish. Being with Aras only made her feel stronger, not weaker. The happiness and peace she felt in his presence was like a living thing, flourishing deep within her.

She almost said something to him now, almost accepted his offer, then stopped, for a faint cheer had risen from the open stairwell.

She knew it was Gideon, who often spoke to his people. His speeches were crudely worded yet powerful, invariably about his hatred of the privileged few and his belief in the common person. Esther agreed with him in principle—she had seen what had happened under Inna. Yet she wondered how Gideon meant to carry out his beliefs.

After the rebellion, Gideon had approached Esther and proposed that the Insurgents move in with them, and initially Esther had been all in favor; she knew that, properly maintained, the District could house hundreds in comfort. But it was growing clearer every day that there were huge differences between the two groups.

Letting go of Aras's hand, Esther went to the stairwell and headed to the mall level. Gazing down from behind the brass railing, she saw that a crowd had gathered to hear Gideon speak.

His tone today was even more aggressive than it had been before. And standing in the front row was Eli. Since Esther's new intimacy with Aras, Eli had become distant to her, even cold.

On the fourth floor, Esther felt torn between two worlds. Waiting for her above was Aras and the sunlit garden. And below her was something she didn't understand, something she found disturbing.

She knew what she had to do. Esther walked across the tile floor and started down the stairs.

She wanted to let them know, without a doubt, who was in charge.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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

This is the second YA novel from five-time Emmy Award-nominated writer and
Huffington Post
blogger
SUSAN KIM
and Edgar Award-winning author
LAURENCE KLAVAN
. They previously collaborated on the graphic novels
City of Spies
and
Brain Camp
, as well as
Wasteland
, the preceding book to
Wanderers
.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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

HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

W
ANDERERS
.
Copyright © 2014 by Susan Kim and Laurence Klavan.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

www.epicreads.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 978-0-06-211854-7 (trade bdg.)

EPub Edition July 2013 ISBN 9780062118547

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