Wasteland (Wasteland - Trilogy) (27 page)

Then her problem was solved for her.

A strange sound crackled through the air and one of the guards pulled out a black plastic device attached to his belt. “Security breach,” it rasped. “Everyone, report to Section A-Seventeen. Aisle Five.”

Esther ducked deeper into the shadows as the two guards, pulling out their weapons, lumbered past.

For the moment, the room was unguarded. Esther darted through the door. Inside, the child’s cries were deafening, echoing off the hard interior. Everything in the room was white tile, gray metal, steel, glass. To one side was a series of stalls, each with a swinging door that opened on a built-in seat with a hollowed center. Old-fashioned and ridiculous, the seat was the ancient indoor waste removal contraption she had seen many times before, although rarely so many at once. Across from them was a bank of matching white sinks. Above that, Esther saw herself reflected in a long mirror that stretched down the wall.

And at the end of the room, standing in a wooden pen and sobbing, was a small boy.

Kai.

Esther started toward him.

Then she felt rough hands seize her from behind.

That night, the spill of electric lights revealed a short boy standing outside the massive front door of the Source. In days past, the building seemed to Rafe a sort of blind giant, a faceless god that watched over him and others.

All that, of course, had changed.

This was now his third visit, and so he was comfortable on its threshold, bathed in its welcoming shadows. That was not to say he was complacent about being there: No, it never ceased to give him a thrill to be near the impressive structure, and part of the elite allowed to enter.

Still, today, he was here on business, so he had to temper his excitement.

Levi had called him here so Rafe could give the results of the town meeting. And although Rafe knew this might be a
slightly
difficult report to present, he was confident he could do it without issue. He mumbled under his breath, practicing what he intended to say. He changed his words and intonation again and again; he even imitated the facial expressions and hand gestures he would use. Then he looked up.

A hooded guard stood before him at the giant door. Through mirrored sunglasses, he stared impassively ahead.

“Excuse me?” Rafe said. “I’m here for the meeting.”

There was a long silence. “Who with?” the guard said.

“Well, with Levi.”

The sunglasses and mask could not hide the look of disbelief on the guard’s face. Rafe made a mental note to mention this rude lackey to Levi, who he was sure would have something to say about it.

“Yes,” Rafe said condescendingly. “Levi asked me to come. Tell him Rafe is here.”

At this, the guard’s eyes narrowed. As if from a great distance, the name rang a dim bell. “Stay here,” the guard said. He disappeared behind the massive door, which slammed shut.

Rafe told himself to be patient. Yet many minutes crept by. When the door reopened, Rafe was soaked with sweat.

“Okay,” the guard said. Rafe patted some of the sweat from his face and adjusted his robes. The guard ushered him into the darkness, despite Rafe’s repeated insistence that he knew the way. Annoyed, he comforted himself with the thought that the insubordinate fool would one day be working for
him
.

Soon they were standing in front of the small office, lit by an overhead bulb. It shone on the head and shoulders of one sitting alone at a large desk, the features in his pale face cast deep in shadow.

“Levi,” Rafe said. Aware that some more formal salutation might be required of him, he bowed at the waist.

There was no response right away.

“Hello, Rafe,” Levi replied at last. “Thank you for coming.”

Rafe gave a sidelong smirk toward the guard, as if to say,
what did I tell you?
Then, with confidence, he turned back to Levi and plunged ahead with his prepared speech.

“I passed along your generous offer to the townspeople,” Rafe said. “And naturally, it was way more than they were expecting. Frankly, Levi, between me and you, it was way more than they deserve. But surely, you must have taken that into account when you—”

“Get to it,” whispered the guard.

“I’m happy to say,” Rafe said, shifting quickly, “that there was widespread rejoicing. Just like you wanted, and just like I promised.” He took a deep breath, aware that this next bit was the tricky part. “That being said, I think they were a little . . . well, let’s just say they were overwhelmed by the offer. Don’t get me wrong. They’re with you all the way. Only they just need a little more time to make it official.”

Rafe smiled, confident that this explanation would suffice. There was a seemingly endless pause, while he kept smiling. Soon the muscles on his face started to feel strained.

Levi murmured something, and Rafe leaned forward, cupping an ear. “Excuse me?”

Too late, Rafe realized that the words were addressed not to him but to the guard by his side. The hooded boy reached for something at his belt.

Then a lightning bolt hit Rafe’s lower spine, rocketing through his body before it exploded out of his limbs and head at the same time. Rafe was facedown on the floor, convulsing in agony, before he passed out.

As the body was dragged from his sight, Levi paced, deep in thought. He was not surprised by the boy’s incompetence, nor was he flattered by his cringing servility. As mildly entertaining as it was to see the expression on that idiot’s face change, Levi was far more concerned about the threat to his plan.

Levi had given the people of Prin new reason to respect him. Then he had made them a fair offer to relinquish the town. Of course, he could never have paid them what he promised, but, most important, he had tried to make them part of the decision.

It hadn’t worked. He could wait no longer for Sarah to deliver the book. The Excavation and Gleaning had both proven to be worthless expenditures. Shortages had grown so dire, he even heard there was a break-in at the Source earlier that day. Levi had no time to deal with the would-be thief, a girl from town, and only hoped the news didn’t get out.

Levi was beset on every side by betrayal and ineptitude, while options faded and resources dwindled.

He had been counting down to this moment ever since he had taken over the Source, nearly six years ago; now, there was no more time to spare. Over time, he had devised a Plan B, a final solution that he hoped not to use. He feared it would be too unwieldy to execute, too cumbersome, and would strain the capacity of his team of guards to the breaking point. Now there was simply no choice.

Fleetingly, he hoped there wouldn’t be too much bloodshed. Not that he cared about the people of Prin. But Levi knew that blood had a way of riling up even the most complacent of animals.

Still, if he had to, he was willing to risk chaos.

I
T BEGAN EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, BEFORE THE SUN HAD EVEN RISEN
.

At each dwelling, it was the same routine. There was a discreet knock at the door; two hooded guards from the Source stood outside. They carried no weapons on their belts, and they were courteous, even bland. One of them requested that the inhabitants leave their home and come with them. To the inevitable questions, the answers were always the same, vague yet reassuring at the same time:

It’s Levi’s idea. It’s for your own good. Levi will explain everything shortly. There is no need to bring anything. You will be returning home soon.

A few had more pointed questions. One or two even attempted to refuse and in private, they were more forcibly persuaded. Yet while they were confused and half asleep, most of the people of Prin felt that they could trust Levi. Docile and obedient, they came outside without a fuss, closing their doors behind them.

It was only when they were outside did some of the townspeople start to feel uneasy.

A long line of their neighbors snaked its way down the main street of Prin. As more and more people were roused from their sleep and brought outdoors, they were shepherded into the line by the hooded guards.

There were a handful of young children, some still asleep, carried by parent or guardian or trailing behind by the hand. One guard stood to the side and handed them toys from the Source: pinwheels, soap-bubble bottles with built-in wands, dolls still in their plastic wrapping. In the silence, there were delighted exclamations and sounds of laughter as the children opened their gifts and played with them.

“How long will this take?” asked a townsperson.

“Not long,” replied a guard. “Get back in line.”

In fact, the walk took longer than anyone expected, much longer, as they passed the town limits and continued west along a two-lane highway surrounded by the remains of a forest. Soon, the youngest started to cry, as the novelty of the toys wore off and the discomfort of the forced march began to mount. By now, the sun was well up in the sky. There was no water, no shade. Nearly everyone was still in their sleeping clothes and had no protection from the burning heat: no head coverings, no sunglasses. Many were barefoot. Any skin that was exposed had long since turned pink and then red. Soon blisters would form that would eventually blacken.

And still, they were forced to walk.

It was impossible to escape, even to stop for rest; guards were now positioned on both sides of the lines, and by now, they displayed bows and arrows, metal clubs, and the electrical weapons that had been hidden under their robes. Whenever those in line encountered a break in the road, a rupture of cement and underlying dirt, they were forced to scramble over it, sometimes on their hands and knees. When anyone faltered or stumbled, he or she was yanked to their feet and sent back to the line with an electrical shock or a resounding blow to the shoulders.

After four hours, the people of Prin reached their destination.

It was a large house, larger than even the grand old homes in the wealthy section of Prin, set off the road and hidden by a dense covering of overgrown trees and vines that surrounded it. On closer inspection, it seemed to have been spared not only by earthquakes, but by Gleanings, looting, and vandalism. It still retained much of its old-fashioned beauty, faded yet intact. Two large cars sat in the circular driveway, one silver and the other a dark blue. In fact, while both were dusty, they were untouched; they might never have even been Harvested. But that was not what the people of Prin were thinking about.

The entire house was surrounded by dense coils of barbed wire.

Back in Prin, a team of two dozen was assembled on the central street.

They were criminals, vagrants, and castoffs recruited early that morning by Levi’s few remaining guards, a ragtag mob of the desperate picked up from the fenced-in fields on the outskirts of town. They were all desperate to work, frantic for the meager allotment of food and water that had been promised them as payment.

According to the rough map drawn up by Levi, the work would start at the center of town and progress block by block.

Working in teams of two, the day workers entered the homes that had been evacuated. Once inside, they gathered everything they could—furniture, clothing, housewares—and carried it outside, dumping it into the street. Soon, the air was full of the sound of smashing wood and glass and plastic. If any stores of food or water were found, they were carried to a separate pile, where two of Levi’s remaining boys stood watchful guard, metal clubs drawn as they made certain that nothing was held back or hidden in pockets.

Within hours, the street was littered with detritus.

The workers were ordered to begin the next phase. Under close watch, they wielded construction tools, valuable objects found over the years at Gleanings and stored in the Source for just such an occasion: crowbars, axes, shovels, even several chainsaws and a jackhammer. Much of the cement flooring and underlying foundations in the homes of Prin were already badly cracked and irreparably damaged. With effort, it was not difficult to work the cracks open even farther, revealing ancient gravel, moldering two-by-fours, and the dirt underneath.

Unless great care was taken, an unexpected cave-in could happen in the blink of an eye, sending heavy beams, sections of floor and ceiling, and even entire buildings crashing to the ground. But there was no time for care. There were too few people to demolish too many homes and, for Levi, speed was of the essence; his last three guards, armed with Tasers and batons, made sure of that.

Wood and plaster chips rained down on crude living rooms and kitchens as clay, shattered bricks, and rubble began to pile up in what had been people’s homes. When the walls got in the way, the workers destroyed them, smashing them with sledgehammers and sending clouds of plaster dust spilling into the street. When two townspeople were discovered hiding in their homes, the workers barely paused from their labors. In both cases, they surrounded the unfortunate resident with upraised axes and shovels; and while the screams were piercing, they were brief.

By the end of the day, the workers had broken through the basement floor in nineteen buildings along the central block.

But so far, it was useless. Despite their efforts, they had found nothing beneath, beside, or within what had once been the homes of Prin.