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Helene and Beatrice were still on shore. Helene winced as Beatrice held the two narrow boards against her leg. She began wrapping the rope around them, securing the splint in place.
I started toward the girls, trying to push away the doubts I’d had about coming here. I’d revisited those last hours in the dugout so many times, wondering if it was foolish to be back, knowing Leif had been the one to betray us to Fletcher. As long as my father was looking for me, as long as he had the means to, there was always the chance someone would send word to the army about where I was. From now on every light on the road, every sign of smoke in the distance, and every stranger we encountered was a threat.
“Remember what I said,” I began, looking to the girls at the edge of the lake. “It’s just for a few days, so we can rest. And Clara, Beatrice, and I are here with you, so try not to worry. ”
Sarah pressed her finger into her mouth, biting at the skin around her nail. “You know that’s easier to say . . . ” she started, trailing off. Her eyes darted toward her mother.
“There might have been some truth to it,” I said, knowing how hard it was to process. “But only one thing ever mattered to the Teachers—that you stayed inside the School walls. And if you did go beyond them, they wanted to make sure you would return as soon as you could. Part of that was teaching you to fear everything and everyone—especially men. As soon as you started to realize that all men beyond the wall weren’t as dangerous as they said, what else would you start to question? What if you did find an ally in one—what then?”
Kit dug her toes into the sand, burying them there. The rest of the girls were silent. Beatrice threw a dry towel over Sarah’s shoulders, rubbing the lake water from her back. Sarah didn’t shrug her off as she sometimes did. She didn’t mutter about what she could do on her own, how Beatrice didn’t need to help her. For a moment they just stood together like that, Beatrice’s arms on her shoulders, in an almost-hug.
I turned, scanning the forest, searching for the burned trunk that twisted toward the lake, its roots pointing back, up toward the dugout. Then I started to the place where the trees met the rocky beach.
As I reached the edge of the forest Clara ran up behind me. “I’ll come with you,” she said, looking into the shadows. I pulled my sweater around me. The air was cooler beneath the massive tree branches.
“You can stay, really. Keep the girls at the water’s edge until I come back. ”
I stepped around the tangled roots, going deeper into the forest, spotting the burned tree up ahead. Far off to my right was one of the stumps the boys set food on when they cooked. They’d cleaned it off, but there was a fresh stain of berry juice on one side. Tiny seeds were still stuck to the edge of the wood. Someone had been here no more than a week before. When I reached the hillside I leaned down, trying to find the groove of the hidden door.
Inside, it was strangely quiet. I turned into the first room, lit by a small hole in the ceiling. I couldn’t remember whose it was—Aaron’s or Kevin’s. There were no clothes strewn on the floor, no empty bowls piled in the corner. None of the old, deflated soccer balls they kicked around, or the crumpled wrappers left over from a storehouse raid. The mattress was uncovered. The two plastic chairs in the corner, claimed from a front lawn, had only a single blanket on them.
I turned back down the mud hall, peering into the next alcove. It was empty. Other than a moldy plate of bones sitting on the floor, there were no signs of the boys. I glanced ahead, where the corridor opened up to the wide, circular room we’d eaten meals in. The dugout had been abandoned. Maybe they had fought in the siege, traveling with the rebels to liberate the labor camps. Maybe they’d been scared out by someone or something, the camp discovered weeks before. I pulled my knife, wishing then I’d brought the rebel’s gun, now separated into two pieces, held by Clara and Beatrice.
I continued down the dim corridor, past more empty rooms, running my hand along the wall to orient myself. When I reached the main cavern it was as it had been months before, the fire pit in the center, the ashes cold. There were a few empty cans scattered on the floor. I ran my finger inside one of them and pressed it to my tongue. It was still wet with pear juice.
As I stood, I looked into the corridor across from me, the mud walls lit in a few places by holes in the ceiling. A figure passed, darting from one room to another. His face was shielded by a tattered blanket, the ends covering his shoulders. I moved quickly, pressing against the wall. A cool sweat covered my skin. I tried to quiet my breathing, listening to the person’s footsteps as he hurried into the room.
I held the knife out as I started into the tunnel, feeling each step as I went farther into the dark corridor. It was possible the dugout had been discovered, that the troops had swept through at some point, or the northern rebels had used it on their way to the City. Anyone could be here now, pilfering the supplies that were left.
A shadow hovered in the doorway. He was a little taller than me, his silhouette inching into the hall. As soon as I looked at him he turned inside the room.
I advanced on him as he ducked back. My hand caught his arm, the knife held just inches from his neck. Slowly, the room came into focus, the sunlight coming down from the ceiling in one thin beam. I saw the face I’d seen every day for twelve years, every morning and evening in School, her curly hair held back by a thick shawl. Pip was frighteningly thin, her collarbone pressing against the thin skin on her neck. I glanced down, noticing her pregnant stomach, which protruded over the top of her ripped pants. It looked strange, as if it couldn’t belong to someone so small and fragile.
“Eve, don’t,” a familiar voice said behind her. “Please. ” Ruby was standing in the corner with Benny and Silas, hovering over them, her arms wrapped around their shoulders. They all stared at me, their eyes so afraid, Pip stepping in front as if to block them from view.
I lowered the weapon, seeing myself through their eyes. My throat squeezed shut, suddenly embarrassed for becoming the type of person who’d hold a knife to another’s throat.
“It’s us,” Benny said, his small voice filling the room. “It’s just us. ”
Twenty-two
I ROLLED THE DIAL BETWEEN MY FINGERS, TUNING THE RADIO to the station Moss had marked in pencil. The air filled with a low, crackling static. Ruby and I leaned in, waiting to hear something—anything—but the minutes passed with no word. “Not as many rebels are sending messages now,” I said, finally clicking it off.
“Kevin and Aaron would’ve sent word if the boys were on their way back,” Ruby said. I set the radio into the duffel bag, taking the battery out and nestling it in my inside pocket.
I peered into the narrow mud room. “There’s enough for four months,” I said, running my hand over a row of cans, their labels long gone. Just below were jars of dried berries and nuts, salted boar, and boiled lake water. Boxes were stacked in one corner of the room, the result of a recent storehouse raid.
“The boys said it could last as long as six. ” Ruby pulled a few jars of water down. “But we’ve been adding to it. We found rose hips, wild berries, grapes. If there’s fish in the shallows we try to bring them in with the net, but we can only go out so far without being able to swim. ” She sat back down beside Pip, twisting off the lid for her. Pip was quiet.