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“Hurry,” I whispered. They were no more than ten yards back. I struggled to pick up my feet, my legs burning from the effort. Each step was strained, the current pushing against us.
We continued on. The group would start, then stop, and I followed along, listening to Sarah somewhere ahead of me, the water splashing up around her as she tried to get traction in it. Occasionally Beatrice asked for her, making sure she was still right there. I let out long, slow breaths, but nothing could keep off the chill or the sick, panicked feeling as the water rose to my ribs.
The soldier wasn’t behind us anymore. As far as I could tell he’d stalled at the edge of the tunnel and then turned back, disappearing into the room. Keep going, I told myself, feeling my energy draining, my legs numb and tired from the cold. Just keep moving. But the water was rising faster, the surface coming up to our chests, and the few girls in front of me struggled to stay afloat.
“It’s the end,” I heard Clara say, somewhere ahead. “Up here—just a little farther. ” The tunnel widened, the passageway nearly six feet across in places. The rough concrete wall scratched at my skin. I pressed my palm against it, trying to steady myself.
I couldn’t tell exactly where Clara was, just that she was a few yards off, past a bend in the corridor. When the water reached our shoulders I struggled to keep hold of my bag and the boots. My clothes, soaked through, were too heavy to move faster than a crawl.
“We have to swim,” I said, trying to keep my chin above water. I could sense that Sarah had fallen behind me. Her legs kicked frantically below the surface. I reached out my hand, pulling her forward, toward the end of the tunnel. “Take the biggest breath you can,” I explained. “Then we’ll go under. Use your arms—like this. ” I held on to her wrist, pulling it down beneath the water, miming the simple stroke Caleb had shown me months before. In front of us, light filtered in from above. I could just barely see Beatrice floating, pushed forward by the sudden swell. She reached the edge of the tunnel, a set of legs disappearing above her as another girl was pulled out.
I took a deep breath, waiting until Sarah did the same, and we both went under, her fingers squeezed around mine. I kicked furiously, pulling her along in my wake, swimming toward the tunnel’s end. My shoulder grazed the tunnel’s rough walls, the skin rubbed raw. The rush of water surrounded me.
When I opened my eyes the water was murky. A few bubbles rose up in front of my face. Dim light spread out in a circle above us, just a few feet away, signaling the tunnel’s end. When I reached it I stood, but the water had gone above my head, the room somewhere above me. I struggled underwater, hoisting Sarah up with my hands. Voices called out from somewhere beyond the surface, muted and low, like a distant song.
I pushed off the bottom and was up, taking in air, the rest of the girls huddled in a small storage room. I threw my boots onto the floor and gripped the rough edge of the opening. Clara tucked her hands under my arms and pulled me up onto the concrete. A metal grate was half closed over the entrance, shutting out the rain. The single backpack in the corner was fat with supplies. A few cardboard sheets floated in two feet of water.
“What are we supposed to do now?” the girl with black braids asked. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to warm herself. Her lips were a strange purple color.
I peered outside the grate, watching the area along the wall. The City looked about a half mile off, maybe more. I could just make out the buildings rising above the wall, their silhouettes dotted with colored light. “We can’t stay here,” I said. “They’ll be searching outside the wall soon. ”
“I want to go back,” the girl with freckles said. “Why did we have to leave?”
“You’re not safe in the City anymore,” Beatrice answered. She squeezed the water out of Sarah’s sweater, twisting it into a tight blue coil. “We can tell you more when we’re away from here. ”
I stepped into my soggy boots and zipped them up. “We need to go now,” I said. I started onto the road, away from the City wall, the rain hard on my skin. From the outside I could see where the bombs had gone off during the siege, the stone black and charred. Clara ushered the others out behind me, and they followed into the cold.
We started past row upon row of storage containers, most with their metal grates shut, locking out the rain. A few plastic toys were scattered in one, a doll floating facedown in the inch of water that came over the curb. I wondered how bad the flooding was inside the City. It hardly ever rained, and with the tunnels mostly obstructed it would surely be days, at least, before the waters receded.
We crossed through a parking lot and started up a low hill, the pavement rising toward a cluster of abandoned stores. When we were halfway down the street I turned, watching the spot on the horizon where the south gate stood. Far below, two Jeeps pulled outside the City wall. They rounded the corner, the mud splashing up around their tires.
As we kept on, rain cascaded down the hill, the pavement covered with a thin, rippling layer of water. I turned back, watching as one Jeep dipped down into the soft mud. The soldiers got out and started through a neighborhood on foot, but they were going in the wrong direction. I kept going, each step easier, a lightness filling my whole body. We were out of the City. They couldn’t reach us now.
sixteen
“HOW LONG DO WE HAVE TO WAIT HERE?” SARAH ASKED. SHE stood by the window, her silhouette just visible against the sky. The moon was covered by clouds, the rain still coming down, pummeling the ledge outside.
“Just for the night,” I said. “We’ll leave tomorrow. ” After walking for more than two hours, we’d stopped in a neighborhood at the edge of the mountains, hiding in the upper floors of an abandoned house. I stepped around the broken floorboards and reached Clara just as she came up the stairs. She was trailed by two of the other girls, Bette and Helene, a few towels in their hands. “You haven’t found any more?” I asked, pointing to the small pile of blankets on the floor. There were barely enough to keep three people warm for the night, let alone twelve.
“Most of the supplies have been picked over already,” Clara said. She looked at the ripped, stained fabric in her hands. “These aren’t ideal either . . . ”
Bette, a tall girl with wide, deep-set gray eyes and dense freckles, threw one of the towels down. “They’re disgusting,” she mumbled. “And we only found one can—just one. That’s not enough for all of us. ”
“We can look for more tomorrow,” I said. “And we’ll hunt if we have to. We’re lucky, though—we have water. That’s the most important thing. ”
Sarah watched the plastic containers sitting on the roof’s edge, waiting for them to fill. Her hair was still soaked from the rain, empty plastic containers piled by her bare feet. “Don’t,” Beatrice said, as Sarah reached through the broken windowpane, maneuvering her thin wrist to avoid getting cut on the glass. “Let me. ”
“I’m fine,” Sarah replied, holding up her hand. “See?” She picked up a white container with faded writing on it, careful not to let too much water spill over the sides. She brought it in off the window ledge, slowly replacing it with an empty carton.
Beatrice leaned back against the wall, her eyes meeting mine for just a moment. I could see glimpses of her features in Sarah’s. They both had round, heart-shaped faces and a dimple in the center of the chin. Sarah was shorter and more athletic looking than most of the girls, and the only one who hadn’t complained yet—about the rain, about leaving the City, about the abandoned house.