The van
bumps and jerks on the road, shaking unwanted clarity into my head. I lean against Mallory, even though her bony
shoulder stabs into my head every time the van hits a bump.
After
the William boy came into our little cell, Grace quickly interrogated him on
his motives and finally confirmed that he was trustworthy. We left with him leading the way. He led us through a maze of corridors and
tunnels and finally aboveground and into the van. My mind, still foggy, doesn’t give much
information about the layout of the building.
Not that I need to know it, but most of our escape remains nothing more
than a haze adding more clouds to my thoughts.
Now, in
the van, William is having a conversation with Grace. The two seem to have twin personalities. As I watch them, I feel a pang of envy.
“So can
you, like, fly?” Grace asks him.
“No,”
says William, “but my half-brother can.”
“Well
how does that work?”
“My dad
was Atmosphere. His dad was Elemental.”
He shrugs. “That’s how it works.”
“That’s
cool. Yeah, they taught us something
about that back in—at home.”
William
looks over at me. “You okay? You seem very interested in our
conversation.”
I look
away, mumbling an apology.
They
continue their conversation.
I’m awakened by the screech of the van doors. Bright sunlight streams through, temporarily
blinding me. As I approach the exit, a
hand grasps mine and helps me off. On
the end of the arm is a kind-looking man of about forty.
“You
alright?” he asks. His words match the
movement of his mouth, so I know he’s speaking English and my translator is not
affecting this.
I
nod. “Thank you.”
After I
move away from the van, I spot Mallory, Scarlett, and Luna standing by a large
oak tree. I join them and look around at
the scenery. Everything is green, mossy,
and damp. I’ve no idea where we are, but
I think it’s safe to assume we’re in Europe.
The air is humid.
Grace
walks over with William.
“You
like the weather?” he asks.
“The
temperature’s nice, but I like to drink water, not breathe it,” she says.
He
laughs.
I
mildly wonder if anything will happen between the two, but I push the thought
away. After all, how could anything
happen, if the same thing that happened to our Society is happening elsewhere?
Then I
come across a horrible thought:
What if we have to fight?
I push
that away, too, and try to see if I can see any structures or other signs of
humans. I only see a small building with
only a door on the front and no visible windows. I point this out to Mal, and she shrugs.
“Maybe
it’s a bunker?” she suggests.
“Too
small, I think. And wouldn’t it be
underground?” I say.
“Good
point.”
We’re
quiet for a few minutes, until someone—the man who helped me out of the van—starts
speaking rather loudly:
“Attention. We realize that your Society has been
firebombed. We’re sorry for your
loss. We are willing to take you into
our care and our men are searching your Society for survivors right now. But you have to abide by the rules. One infraction and all of you will be kicked
out. It seems harsh, but we are fighting
a war. We cannot fight among ourselves
as well as against the enemy. If anyone
is cruel towards you, please tell us and we will deal with it. But for now, you seven will take rooms
F86-F92, on level six. William here will
show you the way. We wish you the best and
are, again, terribly sorry for your loss.”
The building,
as it turns out, is the entrance to a bunker of sorts underground. Our level is six out of eight, and eight is
the topmost level. We only have to walk
down four flights of stairs, which is taxing, but at least it’s just that.
As I curl
up on my bed in room F90, I close my eyes and think of nothing but how much I wish
for home.
