Wanderers (26 page)

“It's all right,” she whispered so only he could hear. “It's all right. It's all right.”

When at last Eli pulled away, Esther looked up and addressed everyone.

“Let's get going,” she said.

Within the hour, Esther had taken her usual position at the head of the caravan, pulling the wagon that held Joseph and Kai. Yet something had changed.

Although no one could see it, the rifle was also in the wagon behind her, within easy reach.

And by late afternoon of the same day, they caught glimpse of the sign that they had seen only in their dreams.

MONTREAL.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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

T
HE NAME WAS FEATURED ON A SIGN HUNG ON A PROMINENT BEAM
above the highway; the word was nearly rusted over and the placard hung at a crooked angle. Those who could read sounded out the letters and spoke it aloud, with wonder.

The highway funneled onto a seemingly endless bridge. It was flanked on both sides by low concrete walls covered with spray-painted obscenities and sections of chain-link fence. It spanned what had once been a body of water far below. On either side in the distance, Esther could see the remains of other bridges that had also once crossed what was now a bed of baked red clay, crazed with millions of cracks. Yet to the seven travelers—Esther, Skar, Michal, Eli, Joseph, Silas, and perhaps even little Kai—the barren landscape was the most beautiful thing any of them had ever seen. For far across it lay a shimmering vision of glass and steel.

Before they were even halfway over the bridge, Esther could see that Mundreel was unlike any of the other places they had passed through. This was no small town with a main street and handful of shops and gas stations. It was not even like Prin, with its two- and three-story buildings and destroyed mansions.

This was a place of endless avenues and wide, hilly streets that bristled with stoplights, street lamps, and signs pointing to still more destinations. As they entered the city, it seemed as if each street was a man-made canyon, arranged in neat, geometric blocks that were bordered with glittering sidewalks and separated by asphalt. Gargantuan buildings towered above them, some that seemed a hundred floors high. Their glass and metal shone in the brilliant pink rays of the setting sun, reflecting so strongly that even with their sunglasses, they had to shield their eyes.

One by one, all of them fell silent, cowed. Even Kai could not be heard to laugh or cry: He, too, in his own small way, seemed overwhelmed.

Yet a single question nagged at Esther:
Would this be the place they had hoped?
Tall tales had cheered them up and kept them going during even the bleakest moments.
Mundreel held more food than they had ever seen or could eat in a lifetime. The water was clean and so safe, you could stand in the rain and catch it in your mouth, drinking from the sky. And the people there lived forever: to thirty, forty, even fifty years of age.

But despite the magnificence of the cityscape, there was no sign of anything like that. As they rounded yet another corner and onto yet a new thoroughfare, Esther and the others grew aware of something else.

They were alone.

The streets and alleys, striped with lengthening shadows, were empty. Esther heard only the occasional crunch of gravel and broken glass beneath their feet, and the far-off baying of a dog. When they gazed up at the gleaming buildings, they saw no faces watching and no movement of any kind behind the panes of glass.

Cars sat everywhere: parked at meters and in lots, and rusted by decades of rain. But they, too, were empty.

Esther said nothing to the others. Yet she sensed that they, too, wondered: Had they been misled? Had they made this trip for nothing? Even in silence, she thought she could detect disbelief and, with it, growing fear.

Then Esther stopped. Several blocks away, a building caught her attention.

Compared to the monoliths on either side, this one seemed distinctly older and less impressive. It was made of polished gray stone, with pillars on either side of an entry. Above the front door, three poles pointed outward, one still bearing the ghostly tatters of what had once been a flag. But that was not the only thing that drew Esther's eye.

A solitary figure stood on the roof, watching them.

It was impossible to tell its age or gender. It was wearing white clothing and held what looked like a pair of binoculars to its eyes, clearly aimed at them. Esther gave a tentative wave, and an instant later, the figure lifted its hand in return. She realized it was beckoning.

“This way,” she said to the others, relief in her voice.

As they started down the street, Skar lashed out a hand and grabbed Esther. “Listen,” she said.

It took Esther a moment to hear it. It was a sound they all recognized, one that filled them with senseless dread: the thump of multiple bicycle tires on pavement, approaching fast.

There was no way of telling whether or not the riders were friendly. Yet by instinct alone, they all responded as one.

“Go!” shouted Esther.

Eli, Michal, and Silas took off on their bicycles, the remaining wagon bumping along behind. Esther and Skar began to run, much as they had raced each other through the broken streets and fields of Prin. Despite their exhaustion, they matched each other stride for stride, arms pumping as they sprinted for the building three long blocks away.

Out of the corner of her eye, Esther saw their pursuers bearing down on them from a side street and her heart tightened in disbelief and terror.

It was an army of skeletons.

There were anywhere from six to ten of them, all on bicycles. As they came closer at a surprisingly fast pace, Esther realized that they were alive, but just barely. These people were so thin, they were little more than bones, with heads like naked skulls with staring sockets. All were dressed in tattered black, with fluttering cloths tied to their arms and legs and wrapped tightly around their heads. Some wore mirrored glasses that reflected the dying sun, casting a blinding light.

Their leader, a boy who rode in front, was screaming to those behind him. He had tangled red hair that streamed past his shoulders and pale skin pulled over sharp cheekbones that stood in shocking contrast to his black headgear and vest.

“
Stop them!
”

Pure adrenaline flooded Esther. Without breaking her pace, she shot a panicked glance at the roof: The figure with the binoculars had disappeared. In the next moment, she and Skar managed to catch and then outpace Michal and Eli, who was hindered by the heavy wagon he was pulling. Only Silas, alone on his free-bicycle, stood a clear chance of making it with them to the building.

There were only two blocks left. By now, Michal was falling far behind. When Skar noticed, she slowed and then stopped.

“I have to go back,” she panted.

Esther spotted a sign at the corner:
RÉSO
, with a downward-pointing arrow in the center of the O. The word meant nothing to her, but she decided to take a chance.

“No,” Esther shouted so the others could hear. “This way.” Without slowing down, she swerved and then raced around the corner.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting. But in the middle of the sidewalk, there was a large metal door that that swiveled open to a dark entryway. Inside was a short staircase. Esther ran straight at it, grabbed the handrail, and vaulted down into pitch-blackness. Behind her, she could hear the others following and, a moment later, rattling down behind her on their bicycles.

Eli fumbled with a firestarter and lifted it overhead for a few moments. The seven were in a seemingly endless space, musty from disuse. Shuttered stores were everyone they looked; they were in the remnants of an abandoned underground city. At the far end were two descending metal staircases; it was impossible to see where they led.

They were the kind of steps they had seen before many time at stores in Prin: steep, made of thinly grooved metal, with dangerously sharp edges. Yet there was no other way to go; already, they could hear their pursuers on the street above them.

“Spread out!” Esther shouted.

They did; and together, Eli, Michal, and Silas launched their bicycles down each staircase and into the darkness that lay beyond.

Esther and Skar started after them on foot, until Esther had a better idea. She indicated the handrails and her friend understood. It was something they used to do for fun in Prin; now, the stakes were much higher. They leaped sideways onto the hard rubber and slid down, overtaking the others and making it down to the lower level first.

Their friends, however, had a much harder time.

As the bicycles and the attached wagon banged down the steps, they threatened to fly out of control or break apart with every impact. Riders crouched on their pedals in a vain attempt to absorb the shock as they bounced dangerously high down the treacherous steps; the distance to the bottom seemed endless.

Moments before, Esther had heard the far-off sounds as their pursuers reached the entrance and began to head down after them. Now they, too, divided themselves among the staircases and were riding down. The thud of rubber tires and the clanging of metal reverberated above them through the cavernous space.

But the seven travelers had made it to the bottom. By now, the bicycles were useless: Their tires were shredded and their rims bent and mangled. As Eli, Michal, and Silas kicked free of them, Skar pulled a badly shaken Joseph and Kai from their wagon. Esther grabbed her rifle, although it was much too dark to use it.

“Let's just move,” she called.

Again, Eli lit his firestarter. They were standing in the middle of a long and narrow subterranean platform; the ground dropped off abruptly on either side to train tracks below. As the tiny flame guttered out, everyone grabbed hands for safety in the dark. Then Esther took off, leading the way as they ran down the path, skidding on debris and broken glass. Dozens of unseen vermin—rats? snakes?—skittered away in front of them.

Behind her, Esther heard the first bicycle hit the ground at the end of a staircase, then another, then another. Their pursuers had not given up but were now chasing them through the underground passageway, some still astride their damaged vehicles, the rest on foot. The boy leader was shouting, his words urgent yet lost in the echoes of the dark corridors.

Then an unholy noise filled the air.

A blaring, inhuman roar reverberated off the floors and walls, shocking the system. Everyone pressed their hands against their ears in a frantic attempt to block the piercing sound; and against her chest, Esther felt rather than heard Kai scream in his harness.

And then it stopped.

Esther whirled around. In the echoing silence, she could still hear their enemies. But the sounds they made were fading.

They were in retreat.

Confused, she turned back toward the source of the sound. In the distance the spark of a firestarter broke the darkness. As it burst into flame, Esther caught a whiff of gasoline and burning cloth.

A silhouette emerged from the shadows, holding aloft a lit torch.

The stranger had on billowing white clothes that were so clean, they seemed to glow in the dark: pleated trousers, shirt, gloves. It wore a wide-brimmed hat with a gauzy white cloth tied at the throat that masked its face, as well as a large pair of binoculars around its neck.

It was,
Esther realized,
the person who had waved to her from the roof.

“Hello!” it called. It was a boy, and the relief in his voice was obvious. “You're lucky I saw you in time.”

Frozen in confusion, Esther and the others could only wait for him to reach them. Next to her, she could feel Eli tensing up, in anticipation of a fight.

“Hold on,” she whispered.

As the boy drew near, Esther could see he was unarmed. To her shock, he reached up and seized her hand not holding the rifle. Then he pumped it up and down.

“My name is Ramon.” The voice that emerged from beneath the face scarf was deep and warm. “Welcome.”

Moments later, the group huddled together in the entrance, gaping in utter shock.

The place was beyond anything they could have imagined.

Before it had been destroyed, the Source in Prin was the most opulent place any of them had ever seen. It had a supply of electricity and the miraculous luxuries that went with it: indoor lights, a moving ramp, and a functioning freight elevator that rode up and down between floors.

Still, the Source was nothing more than a warehouse, a windowless cement box with gloomy aisles of industrial shelves, cardboard crates, and cracked, gray floors.

What lay before them now seemed nothing less than a magical empire.

The light alone was extraordinary. It gleamed down from massive panes of glass that surrounded them and reflected off the different open levels, marked off by rounded pillars and curving staircases that were a uniform and brilliant white. The huge rectangular window set in the high ceiling seemed like a separate sky; it was framed by colorful designs etched in plaster. The late-afternoon sky itself, streaked with purple and magenta, appeared through the glass like a brilliant, painted decoration. Giant creatures, fanciful sculpted birds with human heads, were poised in the air above, stirring faintly on invisible threads. And everywhere Esther looked, she saw shining surfaces—counters, archways, railings, displays—made of steel, brass, and mirrors.

As Ramon herded them farther into the structure, Esther and the others moved as one, struck dumb. As Eli gasped, Skar stepped closer to Michal. Joseph clung to his cat carrier, breathing fast. Everyone was stunned by the grandeur that enclosed them.