Wanderers (32 page)

The adults had not allowed their guests to drink any of the intoxicating liquid. Still, Michal felt as free and loose as if she had finished an entire bottle by herself.

“‘'Cause I couldn't take the shame,'” she sang. Then, with a smile, she opened her arms to her partner. “Come on . . . dance with me again.” But although Skar returned the smile, she shook her head.

Michal sat next to her, her face flushed. “What's wrong?”

Skar didn't answer at first. “It's Esther,” she said. “I'm worried about her.”

Michal flopped onto the bed and raised her arms above her head. Earlier that afternoon, Inna had asked Bao to take Michal and Skar to a jewelry store on the third level. Once there, the girls were allowed to select as many things as they wanted: emeralds, sapphires, rubies. Now Michal admired the glints of colored light that glanced off the gems in her rings and bracelets and played across the ceiling.

“What do you mean?” she asked, not really paying attention.

“I don't know,” said Skar. “She seems different.”

“Different? Like how?”

Skar searched for the right words. “Esther is very loyal. But that is only after you have earned her trust, with actions. It is unlike her to give it away so quickly, without even questioning the other person's motives.”

Michal was puzzled. “Who are you talking about?”

“Inna.”

Her partner's bluntness surprised Michal. “Don't you like her?” she asked, sitting up. “I think she's nice.”

Skar shook her head.

“It is not a question of liking. Esther is our leader, and I am speaking of her judgment. She trusts Inna, even though the woman has not yet earned it.”

Michal wrinkled her nose. “But she gives us so much nice stuff.” She shook her arms one last time, making the bracelets jangle. “She said we can have whatever we want. All we got to do is ask.”

Skar sighed. “True,” she admitted. “But we don't know who Inna is . . . not yet. Not really. And each day, Esther's trust in her grows and grows.”

Michal put her arms around Skar's neck. “You sound like you don't trust
Esther,
” she said. Then another thought came to her. “Or maybe you're jealous,” she added in a teasing voice, “because Inna likes Esther more than she likes you.”

Skar smiled, indulgently, and was about to reply when something darted into their room.

It was Joseph's cat, Stumpy.

As the animal disappeared behind a display case, Silas appeared at their doorway. He was ashen-faced and breathing hard.

“What are you—” Michal started to say, but Skar, realizing that something was wrong, had already leaped to her feet.

“Stay here, in case anyone comes,” she said to Michal. Then with a glance into the hallway, Skar grabbed Silas by the arm and pulled him deeper into the store.

Ducking behind a counter, the two were effectively hidden from view. “Are you all right?” she asked. He nodded, unable to speak. “But someone is chasing you. Who is it?”

Silas caught his breath. Then speaking in whispers, he told her what had happened.

Skar stiffened and held up her hand, silencing him. Seconds later, they could hear footsteps approach and stop in the doorway.

“Did you see anyone come by here?” said a man's voice. A murmured reply came from Michal, and after a moment, the footsteps continued on their way.

“What did you find in the garage?” Skar whispered to Silas, once she knew they were safe.

Without saying a word, he untucked his shirt and pulled something out.

“Maybe it's an animal,” he said in a low voice. “I don't know enough to tell.”

Skar held up the object and turned it around, examining it. With her finger, she traced the empty eye sockets, the delicate jut of bone at the nose, and the teeth, which were mostly intact. Then she shuddered.

“No,” she said. “It's not an animal.”

Michal had joined them and when she saw the skull, she gasped.

Skar looked grim as she turned the object around. “And that's not the worst part. You see this?” Holding it up to the torchlight, she indicated where a section of bone had smashed away in the back. The jagged hole radiated into fine cracks.

“Whoever it was,” she said, “somebody killed him.”

In the party room upstairs, all that was left was the beautiful wreckage of the table: dirty plates and goblets, crumpled napkins, empty bottles. Yet there was still so much food left—not only figs, avocados, berries, and grapes, but also more-familiar treats made of packaged ingredients. Gleaming silver trays and bowls were stuffed with salted flatbreads dripping honey, sugary porridge, candies, and plastic containers of soda.

Esther stood alone at the table, nibbling a crust. The only other person left was Eli. He was watching her from across the room, but he was too shy to approach.

In truth, he was still dazed from the dancing. He liked it more than he had expected, a lot more.

Holding Esther and moving with her, feeling her body pressed close, her hand enfolded in his—it had unearthed all the old emotions and made them even stronger than he remembered.

And, unless he was crazy, he thought she had felt a flicker of something for him, as well.

Could it be true? Maybe at long last, after all the loss and struggle and pain they had both been through, he and Esther were finally ready to meet in the same place.

If that were so,
Eli thought with a new sense of gratitude,
it was because of their hosts.
Inna and Ramon had introduced them not just to music, dancing, beautiful clothes, and fine food, but something rarer. They had taught them that they were entitled to pleasure, as well as something few of them had ever fully known in Prin.

That thing was happiness.

Though he had eaten less than an hour ago, Eli realized he was hungry again. As he filled yet another plate, marveling for the hundredth time at the opulence of the banquet, a funny thought struck him. The adults never ate with them; they always stood to the side at mealtimes, watching as their guests ate and then finishing up what little was left. Yet had they never once stinted on what they served.

“It's almost like they want to fatten us up,” Eli joked to Esther.

But the two had no sooner sat down and started to eat when something made them look up. Joseph had entered the room, looking pale and unsteady on his feet.

“I—” he started, then stopped. “We've been looking for you.”

Esther had already crossed the room. “What's wrong?”

He found the nearest seat and sank into it. He was panting and blinked a few times.

“It's all right. Just calm down.” Esther knelt beside him and smoothed the damp hair from his brow. “What's happened?”

“I wanted to get away from where I was.”

She spoke as if addressing a panicked child. “Where were you?”

“I was reading some of the . . . records. The ones that they keep. Inna and Ramon and . . . the others.”

“And what did they say?”

“They seemed to . . .” Joseph had regained some of his composure. “They seemed to refer to . . . how they've survived. What they . . . what they eat.”

Esther was losing patience. “We
know
what they eat. You remember their garden? They grow it all themselves.”

Joseph swiveled and stared her right in the face. “That's not all.”

Unnerved by his intensity, Esther felt a prickling sensation at the base of her scalp. Then she dismissed it. Joseph was always worried about something. In fact, he was already fussing with the leather carrier he always had across his shoulder and which now hung open, empty.

“Where's Stumpy?” he asked, his voice rising with panic. “Has anyone seen her?”

“I've got her.”

Silas stood in the doorway, the cat struggling in his arms. The second the animal saw Joseph, she pulled herself free, leaped to the floor, and sauntered over as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Joseph reached down to scoop her up.

Skar and Michal were with Silas. Now the variant girl stepped forward, holding out an object. When they saw it, everyone grew quiet.

“What is that?” said Eli, drawing closer.

But even at a distance, Esther didn't need anyone to tell her. She had seen dead bodies before—skulls and bones worn down by the elements, the freshly dead consumed by flies. Corpses still wearing the tattered remains of jeans and T-shirts.

“We think it was somebody young,” Silas said. “I found it where they bring the garbage. I don't know how many others they got down there.”

“This is what I meant.” Joseph spoke in a soft voice, rocking his cat. “This is just what I meant.” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, the one he had stolen. “Look,” he said.

Esther stared at the writing. Although she didn't know most of them, a few words were clear to her, enough to make a terrible kind of sense. As she struggled to comprehend it, she realized that the others were looking at her, waiting.

“It can't be true,” she said, at last. “I don't believe it. Inna wouldn't . . . she just wouldn't.”

Doubt seemed to ripple across the room like a wave. Esther saw it flash across their faces, even Skar's, and for a moment, she was angry.

“Where's Kai?” Joseph asked suddenly.

“Inna has him.” In an instant, Esther became defensive, and then hostile. “Why? Don't you trust her to—”

“And your rifle?” Skar asked.

Esther began to answer, then stopped. It occurred to her that she had no idea. “I . . . they must have taken it somewhere. For safekeeping.”

Even to her own ears, her words sounded foolish. Then she shook away the doubt: If she entertained it, all certainty and safety would come crashing to the ground.

“Why don't we ask Inna about this?” Eli spoke in a neutral, reasonable voice, as if he understood how difficult this was for her. Esther shot him a glance of gratitude.

“All right,” she said. “And you all come with me so you can hear for yourself.”

Inna and Kai weren't on the roof or in the dark stairwell. Nor were they in the eating area farther down, or in any of the other places they had visited earlier. Now Esther and the others stood in the vast central atrium on the ground floor, uncertain where to look next.

Esther knew it was ridiculous, but she was starting to feel a twinge of anxiety.

Then Skar glanced up. “Listen,” she said.

Cocking her head, Esther couldn't hear anything at first. Then she detected the faintest, high-pitched thread of noise, coming from somewhere in the darkness farther up. Because the enormous space seemed to both magnify and disperse the sound, it took them several minutes to pinpoint where it was coming from. By the time they made it up to the third floor, they finally knew what it was.

It was music, unlike the kind they had danced to, with a thin, metallic sound that was both pretty and disturbing. The tinkling noise came from a distance, where they could see a light flickering from a storefront.

It was a shop none had entered before, full of bright colors, small pieces of furniture, and stuffed animals. At the back of the room, a lit torch was set in a wall bracket; and by its light, Inna sat in an armchair with Kai in her lap. He was wearing a crisp, new pair of yellow overalls, with a red-and-white-striped shirt, and tiny blue sneakers on his feet. As he wrestled with a cloth dinosaur sporting button eyes, he laughed at the strange noises that came out whenever he squeezed it. Other toys, some of them still in their boxes and covered with plastic, lay scattered on the floor around them.

On a low table nearby was a strange, round object. Two ceramic children approached a small house made of candy and other sweets. As they spun in a slow circle, the tinkling music poured from it, repeating again and again.

At the sight of Inna and Kai, Esther felt as if a vise had been released from around her heart. She turned to Skar.

“See?” she whispered. “He's fine.”

Inna looked up and smiled.

“Look,” she exclaimed. “He's grown so much these past few days, he already needs new clothes.” She stood him up in her lap, holding onto his hands. “Doesn't he look handsome?” Kai laughed, bouncing up and down, as Inna hoisted him into the air and let him totter to a playpen that had been set up steps away.

“Now,” she said, smiling, as she turned to Esther and the others. “What can I do for you all?”

All at once, Esther felt foolish standing there and preparing what she was about to say.

If it were up to her, she would have turned around and gone downstairs again.

Yet her friends were still frightened and suspicious behind her; she could feel their eyes locked on her back. Esther took a deep breath and began.

“We found something downstairs,” she said. Inna cocked her head in polite interest. “In the parking garage.”

The woman laughed. “I'm sorry you went down there!” she exclaimed. “It's incredibly filthy. That's our least favorite job, dealing with the garbage . . . nobody ever wants to do it and it does pile up.” She paused. “So what exactly did you find?”

Esther swallowed. “A skull,” she said. She was aware she was blushing. “We think it's human. A child.”

Inna wrinkled her nose, thinking.

“Well, I suppose that's possible,” she said. “The Insurgents are always trying to break in. Occasionally, they manage to slide through pipes or break through a vent. If one of them made it as far as the garage, I suppose he could have gotten trapped down there and then starved to death. It's horrible to think about.” She made a face and shuddered.

But Esther forged ahead. “We also saw something in your records.” She glanced at Joseph, who blanched and seemed to shrink as she spoke.
He wasn't making this any easier,
she thought with exasperation. So she simply blurted out what she had to say. “Do you eat babies?”