Shadows (22 page)

Charlie turned. Susan
hadn't noticed much when Xavier had cleaned, but with Charlie out
there she focused on the finer details. He was right. The black
strip on the front of the visor wasn't tinted glass. If it had
been, they should have been able to see at least the shadowy
outline of his face beneath the black glass. Instead, the black
strip looked like it was solid and impenetrable, as though it were
painted on.

“
Go,
”
she whispered to herself, willing
him to hear her although she knew he couldn't.
“
The hill,
run for the hill.
”

Again, like Xavier, Charlie
was looking for the camera. Susan had no idea what the outside of
the silo looked like, or even what the camera looked like, but she
mentally pictured the camera as something set on a small pole at
waist height, set directly above the concrete bunker from which the
cleaners emerged. She could glean this based on her recollection of
Xavier's motion when he cleaned. Charlie must have seen the camera
as he raised a hand, not so much as waving as acknowledging their
presence inside.

“
Run,
”
she whispered, fearing he too would
walk around to the side and climb up to where the camera was set in
order to clean the lens, but Charlie turned away, more interested
in the decimated hillside and the plume of smoke constantly
billowing out of the ground.

Then he ran. He must have
decided he'd seen enough. He scrambled up the open slope to the
right, away from the ruined ground on the other side of the
silo.

No one said a word within
the silo, they all watched with their eyes transfixed on the screen
before them.

“
Run,
”
Susan repeated, this time forgetting
to whisper. People around her murmured in response, but she didn't
care.

Charlie reached the halfway
point, where the sides of the dust bowl became steep. He used his
hands to climb. Loose rocks and dirt slipped away from beneath his
boots, dragging him backwards, slowing his ascent.

“
Run,
Charlie. Run!
”
Susan cried out, past caring about
what anyone thought.

Charlie scrambled upward,
past the furthest body on the slope. It was only upon seeing him in
motion that Susan realized how big the hill was and how steep the
sides were.

“
RUN!
”
she yelled, repeating herself with
an untimed, rhythmic pulse.

Charlie was slowing. She
wasn't sure if he'd make the crest of the hill. The ridge seemed so
close, but his ascent had slowed to a crawl. Dirt and rocks slid
from beneath his boots, dragging him back into the dust
bowl.

“
RUN!
”
she yelled again, only this time the
whole crowd joined in with her, chanting at the screen, willing
Charlie on.

He was on his hands and
knees, pulling at the rocks as he fought his way up. One hand
reached and grabbed at the edge of a large rocky outcrop and he
pulled himself up, rolling over on one side in his clumsy silver
suit. The black oxygen bottle on his back caught on the rocks and
almost came loose.

“
RUN!
”
Susan repeated, with the crowd
echoing her sentiments. The noise within the open area surrounding
the cafeteria was like nothing she'd ever heard within the silo
before. Hundreds of people were chanting,
“
RUN, RUN,
RUN!
”

Charlie got to his
feet.

He was there.

He was on top of the
ridge.

He stood there for a moment
with his back to the silo, staring out at a sight no one else from
within the silo had ever seen. He raised a clenched fist in triumph
and held it above his head for a second before dropping his arm to
his side and stepping forward off the rock. He stepped down on the
other side of the hill and walked away.

Charlie never looked back.
Susan loved him for that. It would have been so easy to look back,
to take one last glance at the silo, to see the airlock and the
camera from up high, perhaps even to think about her watching from
inside, somewhere deep underground, but Charlie was sending a
message. As much as she'd have loved to see him turn, all she would
have seen was that deathly black strip in the middle of his white,
shiny helmet. Charlie knew, and she knew, and that was all that
mattered. She liked his style. The last anyone saw of him was that
of his helmet bobbing as he disappeared from sight on the other
side of the hill.

“
Get everyone
out of here,
”
Hammond yelled over the unrest in
the crowd.

Mayor Johns stood
speechless in front of the microphone as hundreds of people cheered
for Charlie.

Deputy
Michelson stepped up on the dais and grabbed the microphone,
saying,
“
Clear the floor. Everybody move out. Please
clear the area.
”

Sheriff Cann
turned to Susan saying,
“
He did it. If anyone
could, I knew he would.
”

Somehow, Susan smiled. Even
though she knew Charlie would die out there, probably before she
made it back to her level, not seeing him die left her with a small
victory.

Charlie had beaten the
silo.

He'd beaten
Hammond.

Chapter 12: Revolution

The rest of the day was a
blur. Somehow, Susan made it down the stairs without throwing
herself into the Great Fall. Her mother had held her, keeping her
arm around her as they walked down the outside of the stairs, near
the concrete. They were in the slow lane, with porters and workers
taking the faster, inside stairs. Her mother brought her home and
she collapsed on her bed.

Although she'd slept the
night before, her sleep had been tortured with visions of Charlie
dying. Now he was dead, her mind felt a sense of release, not one
of relief but of resignation.

The smell of grits wafted
through the air.

Susan pulled back the
curtain covering her sleeping berth and saw her Dad standing in the
tiny kitchenette cooking breakfast. Her mother was seated at the
small, square table looking at him, sipping a cup of herbal tea.
Susan was surprised to realize it was morning already.

Lying there, she understood
how deeply her parents loved each other. Perhaps it was the loss of
Charlie that made her so sensitive to the dynamics of her parent's
marriage, but for the first time she saw the love they shared in
the things that surrounded them. It wasn't the rusting stove or the
rickety chairs, the thin legs of the aging veneer table or the
homemade shelves on the wall that spoke of their love, it was the
absence of all the glamorous items they could have had. Susan saw
how they'd stuck by each other despite adversity. They didn't have
much, but much never counted for love. Susan's mother didn't have
to stick by her Dad after he broke the ordinance of The Order and
dug beneath the silo. She could have jumped landings, as the
porters would say. She could have looked out for herself, but she
didn't. And Dad loved her all the more for that love.

They'd never have a
two-room apartment. They'd never have enough chits for colorful
curtains and fresh flowers, for shiny copper pots or glistening
sculptures, she had always known that, but what she hadn't realized
before that moment was that they didn't need them. The way her
father looked at her mother, the tender way they spoke with each
other, it was more than chits could buy. For Susan, this was
heartbreaking to see because it was a glimpse into a life she would
never have with Charlie.

“
Morning,
Sunshine,
”
her Dad said somewhat predictably, and yet she
found comfort in the predictability of that familiar phrase.
Reassurance is what she needed, that life would go on.

“
How long was
I asleep?
”
she asked.

“
You've been
out for eighteen hours,
”
her mother
said.
“
You must have been exhausted.
”

Susan sat up. Her body
ached. She felt as if she'd just come back from another blistering
run Down Deep. Her head throbbed. She raised a hand, rubbing at her
temples.

“
You're
probably a little dehydrated,
”
her mother said,
getting her a glass of water.

“
Thanks,
”
she replied, taking the water from
her and drinking it in a few gulps.

“
Just take it
easy today,
”
her father said.
“
You don't
need to go running back to work.
”

Susan nodded.

“
Grits?
”
he asked. Susan waved him off.
Although she was hungry, she couldn't stomach a plate full of grits
and figured she'd have some fruit, perhaps a piece of dry
toast.

“
Go back to
sleep,
”
her mother said, taking the empty glass from
her.

Susan rolled over, closed
her eyes and went back to sleep. She wasn't sure how long she'd
slept, but she was woken by a knock at the door. Her parents were
long gone. There were no lights on in the apartment, so the only
light seeped in from under the crack of the door. Grabbing her
robe, Susan opened the door and saw Lisa standing there wearing a
porting pack.

“
Morning,
sleepy head.
”

“
Hey,
”
Susan said, opening the door for
Lisa and flicking on the light.

“
I was being
sarcastic,
”
Lisa replied.
“
It's two
in the afternoon.
”

“
Really?
”

“
Really,
”
Lisa said, sitting at the table and
making herself at home.
“
Small
place.
”

“
Yeah,
”
Susan replied, not feeling like
conversation. Lisa clearly wanted to talk. Susan wanted to go back
to sleep. Her lethargy, though, was more than physical. Any fight
she'd had was gone, having staggered over the hill with Charlie.
Life seemed pointless.

“
You can't do
this, you know?
”
Lisa said.

“
Do
what?
”

“
Pretend life
has stopped. Life never stops.
”

Susan sat on the edge of
her sleeping berth facing Lisa.

“
Come
on,
”
Lisa said.
“
I've got a run down
to forty. You don't have to haul, but it would be good for you to
come with me. Let's get you out of here into some fresh air, get
you back on the stairs, where you belong.
”

“
Lisa, I
don't
—”

Lisa cut her
off, saying,
“
I'm not here as a
caster, I'm here as a friend. I'm not telling you that you have to
come, I'm asking you to come.
”

Susan appreciated her
concern.

“
Give me a
second,
”
she said, grabbing her coveralls and
disappearing into the bathroom. She went to the bathroom and got
dressed. Staring at herself in the mirror she realized she looked
awful. It was no wonder Lisa was concerned about her. She ran water
from the taps and splashed her face several times, running the cold
water up through her hair. Water dripped down her neck but she
didn't care. She dried her hair and brushed out a few knots before
pulling her hair back into a ponytail. Sniffing, she opened the
door and walked back into the apartment.

“
See,
”
Lisa said.
“
I bet you're
feeling better already.
”

Susan didn't say anything.
She sat on the edge of her sleeping berth again and put on her
boots. They felt inordinately heavy, as though they were made from
lead weights.

“
You'll feel
better on the stairs,
”
Lisa said, as they stepped out of
the apartment.

The main hallway leading
back to the staircase was unusually quiet. Normally, this would
only occur on a holiday, such as Saint Chrysler day or the two day
holiday for Saint Ford of Detroit. Susan didn't know too much about
these saints, but legend said they had ushered in a time of
prosperity such as had never been known before or since. As far as
she was concerned, they were only good for a break from humping up
and down the stairs, but both days had already passed this
year.

“
What's
up?
”
Susan asked innocently as they approached the stairs.
She wrapped her
‘
kerchief around her
wrist. Ordinarily, the ruddy square piece of cloth would have gone
around her neck, but she didn
’
t feel up to porting
any load. She was only along for the ride.