Authors: Evan Angler
Tags: #Religious, #juvenile fiction, #Christian, #Speculative Fiction, #Action & Adventure
Things weren’t always like this. We have to start making it right.”
He held Hailey’s hand, and the two of them looked out over the sidewalk’s railing, out to the city below, out past the hill, to the dark horizon, with its twinkling lights that bled right into the stars of the sky. Dane’s music played on in their ears, and Hailey still cried, though her tears grew gentle and calm.
Somehow, in that moment, Logan knew. That he would find
Lily. That he would find her soon.
9
It was late in the evening when Logan and Hailey were awoken
from their sleep against the sidewalk railing, earphones still in, heads drooping, legs stretched out across the pavement . . .
“Street cleaning!” a Markless whispered as he ran by. “
Street
cleaning!
” And he tapped Logan and Hailey’s feet as he passed.
The pair stood quickly, Hailey grabbing her radio and Logan
his book.
“Come on,” the Markless called, several paces beyond them
now, heading toward the grid-system elevator. “Not safe up here.”
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So Logan and Hailey followed, hoping that this stranger knew
what he was doing.
The three of them made their way onto the elevator just as the doors were closing. They made the two-hundred-story descent in silence, crammed in with a mob of Marked Beaconers, hoping not to draw too much attention to themselves.
When the elevator doors opened at the ground level stop, the
man they’d followed slipped quickly through the crowd and into the busy streets.
Logan and Hailey ran after him, trying not to think about how
much danger they might be in. DOME didn’t have its eye out for them here the way it did in New Chicago, but that didn’t mean
they’d likely survive a sweeping.
The man led them far past the main streets and deep into the
dark side alleys of City Center’s edges. “
Hurry
,” he whispered, propping open a door with an “Employees Only” sticker on it and waving frantically for Logan and Hailey to catch up. Beyond the chain-link fence at the end of the street, the hill dropped off sharply, and for the briefest moment, Logan paused, absorbing the view. He could just barely make out the tops of the Water District buildings below, where the ocean met the sky at the horizon, and he whispered,
“It’s still beautiful” just before Hailey yanked him hard through the open door.
10
The man ahead of them gave no explanation of where they were
going; it was as if he assumed they already knew.
They traveled through the cold, metal hallways of the building’s
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Evan Angler
back entrance, down a silver, grated stairway and into a dark basement, well beyond the dim light from above, well into the thick black of a tunnel. Logan walked with one hand tracing the wall, using touch as his sight, while all around him, a faint, ominous hum filled the air.
Finally, the three of them made it to another door; when the
man opened it, a soft light and a blast of air flooded the tunnel.
They entered, and descended further.
“What is this place?” Hailey whispered.
But as soon as she said it, it was clear. The stairs led to a steel mesh catwalk, fifty feet or so above a cavernous industrial space with concrete walls, tile floors, and enormous padded tubes running along the floor. Emergency work lights lit the room with a red glow that bounced softly from the hard, cold surfaces.
“We’ve learned about these,” Logan whispered. “In science
class.” He pointed. “It’s a turbine room. We’re inside of a nuclear reactor.”
Hailey nodded. But there were a few differences between the
nuclear reactors Logan learned about in school and the nuclear reactor before them now: this one didn’t seem to be turned on.
And this one was
filled
with Markless. Thousands of them milled about in the arena-sized space, huddling in clusters. “Logan,”
Hailey said. “He’s brought us to the heart of Beacon’s Markless community.”
“The capital.” Logan laughed. “We finally get to see the capital.”
Logan and Hailey had never seen anything like it. They’d never even
heard
of anything like it.
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“Someone down here
has
to know about Acheron,” Hailey said excitedly. “They just have to!”
“I don’t know,” Logan said. “But we’re certainly closer than
we’ve ever been before.”
Logan and Hailey walked wide-eyed around the space, through
the rows marked carefully by tape sectioning off parts of the floor.
This section for one huddle, that section for another . . .
And yet something about the community was amiss. All around
them, Hailey and Logan heard murmurs and whispers. Markless
children ran by, adults pushed past, breaking the boundaries of the space that they themselves had set. Everyone was headed toward a corner of the room, just out of sight.
What’s going on?
Logan wondered. And he followed the flow.
A crowd was gathered in a little alcove sectioned off by the
tubes. As Logan neared it, he heard a voice ringing out across the space.
It was a voice Logan knew.
He pushed his way up toward the front of the crowd, just past
the turbine, pulling Hailey by the hand through the assembly of Markless.
There, in the middle, speaking on behalf of the huddle of Dust that stood behind him, was Peck.
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1
Finally.
The Dust was together again.
“Leadership suits you,” Logan told Peck as the rest of the Dust gathered around. “Seems wherever you go, people can’t wait to
follow.”
“Let’s hope so.” Peck smiled. “Anyway, I’ve had a few days to
get them riled up.”
“Riled up?” Logan asked.
The crowd had broken up after Logan’s and Hailey’s
entrance—had cheered and whooped and hollered at the Dust’s
reunion—but had tactfully respected their privacy after a few
moments’ celebration.
“They seemed to expect us,” Hailey said uneasily. “Peck . . .
what have you told them?”
Peck shrugged. “Everything. We knew you’d come. And even
if you didn’t, we knew we’d need their help if we’re going to find Acheron. We can’t do it on our own.”
“Tell me about it,” Logan replied. “Hailey and I have been
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trying all week. We’ve looked into everything we could find on every major building in City Center—there’s no sign at all of a prison.”
Peck nodded. “So far, Markless here don’t know anything
about it either. But I’ve told them our mission. And they’re willing to help.”
“Peck wants a coordinated citywide search tomorrow,” Blake
said. “Spent most of the evening rallying the troops down here.”
“They’re on board,” Peck said. “They’re eager to help.”
Logan was shocked. “That’s amazing, Peck! We’re really
doing it!”
Peck smiled. “We really are, my friend. We really are.” He put his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Come. Let’s walk. This is your new home. And I’d like to show you around.”
The Markless community inside that turbine room was everything Logan had come to appreciate about the underpass he’d found in New Chicago—except bigger, more organized, and more astound-ing. Peck led him around the space, explaining what he’d learned about it during his time there so far.
“During the States War, when Beacon was first constructed,
after the rupturing of the dam, this fission reactor was built to power what General Lamson knew would become his capital. It
would remain the source of the city’s power for three years—right up until the war was won, when the United States became the