The Unspoken: Book One in the Keres Trilogy (42 page)

“
Well, it
’
s not exactly the way I imagined, but I
’
m not picky,
”
he wipes the perspiration off his forehead and leaves his hand up to shade his eyes.
“
You are covered in ink.
”

Tell me something I don
’
t know. I double-knot the shirt over his leg and will Zink to come back with PG3456. I need Doe to fix this. I need salves and real bandages. I cast a searching look over my shoulder for any sign of their return.

“
I don
’
t think there is anything so beautiful,
”
Frehn says, reaching up and running his hand from my neck to my wrist.

“
That
’
s enough, Frehn. Be still. Doe will be here soon.
”

“
Don
’
t want anyone but you.
”

“
You do not, just shut up and keep still.
”

“
Frehn!
”
A tiny scream permeates the din around us.

“
Doe! He needs-
”
I start but she has already flung her pack down beside him. She pulls out a small pouch of purple leaves and pops two in his mouth.

“
Chew,
”
she commands him.

Frehn catches my eye and smiles broadly, chewing on the leaves,
“
So much attention.
”

Doe unties my shirt and rinses the gash again with something that makes the broken tissue foam. She applies a paste from a jar in her pack and rolls gauzy white bandages tightly around his leg. Running her hands over Frehn
’
s entire body, probing for more injuries she pauses while looking into his eyes. I feel like an intruder watching them exchange a wordless conversation. I stand and walk a few steps away to where Wex, Merit, Harc and Zink wait.

A minute later, Doe stands,
“
I have to do what I can for the others. Take him back to the common room. He won
’
t be able to walk on his own for days, maybe weeks,
”
she looks straight at Wex when she says this.

Wex shows he understands with a simple gesture of his hands. We will not be able to escape until Frehn heals completely. We are not able to get out through the mine anymore anyway so it makes little difference.

We advance on Frehn, and Zink bends low to help prepare him to stand. I hear Zink whisper something about Sotter. Wex is handing me his own shirt to put on,
“
You can
’
t walk across Chelon with next to nothing on. Even in crisis. I
’
ll get your shirt.
”

“
Ah, let her go without it,
”
mewls Frehn.

“
Not even for you,
”
Wex replies, helping Zink get Frehn to his feet. It
’
s slow progress across the city to the Quad. Everyone we pass has tear-stained faces, long wet streaks slice through the dirt on their cheeks, people mourning their dead or crying for joy their PG members were hurt but not killed. Merit, Harc and I push through the crowd, making room for the others who are carrying Frehn now with their arms formed like a chair. Frehn
’
s face is drawn, tight and has slipped from gray to green, as if the color of his eyes has faded down his skin with the river of sweat.

When we have Frehn stretched long on the sofa, Wex turns to Zink.
“
That
’
s the second time you have carried one of us back to our block. Thank you,
”
he shakes Zink
’
s hand firmly in both of his.

“
If we don
’
t help each other, no one will,
”
Zink says to him as he returns the firm grip.

I move to the window and watch the scene below. People running across the Quad, carrying miners through the doors of residence compounds, the near dead to the Healers
’
Building. Lavender robes swirl behind Mothers as they float through the crowd, holding their absurd rags out to dab at open wounds four times the size of the cloth. The Healers ricochet from one bloody trauma to the next while Keepers and Architects haul boards to repair the broken windows of the buildings near the blast. From my vantage point, I see Abbot and Journer walking calmly together across the courtyard. They are like two stoic crickets surrounded by a sea of agitated ants.

A howl of grief from outside the common room door makes me jump. Someone must have broken the news of a death to a woman somewhere on the residence hall. We all fall silent, listening to her scream out her loss. Harc covers her ears and rocks slightly.

“
Is there nothing we can do, Zink?
”
I ask him desperately.
“
All this pain...
”

“
Nothing. Some things have to be left to nature,
”
he says. His eyes are glassy with tears and his shoulders sag with the weight of helplessness.

The television blinks on, flooding the room with a bright blue light. A Mother appears on screen, an expression of sorrow pinned to her face like a mask,
“
Children, there has been an accident in Mineral Recovery. Your Mothers are tending to the wounded now.
”
A snorting noise escapes Wex at those words.
“
Your Mothers are preparing boxed rations for your dinners in the canteen. Please send one representative from your Play Group to retrieve them. Tonight you may eat in your blocks, won
’
t that be an exciting amusement for you? Only those kept in the Healers
’
Building will be excused from Service tomorrow. Be not afraid, your Mothers will protect you.
”
The television goes dark with a small pop.

We stand watching the black screen, waiting for more.
“
I
’
ll go get my PG
’
s rations,
”
Zink says,
“
Keres, come with me?
”

I do not want to leave the common room. I do not want to go among the scene of grief and pain. But I move towards the door with him.

“
Check your room first,
”
he says quietly to me.

When I walk through my bedroom door, I don
’
t have to look up. All five fingers of the hand over my door are pulsing an amber light.

Terror seizes my spine and I cannot move. Zink, seeing the light reflected around the room, pulls gently at the back of my shirt. I can feel my eyes pop, bulging from my head, my nostrils flare with fear. An ice-cold feeling plummets down my head and back. And I know, as certainly as if I had personally witnessed them plot, I know The Mothers discovered our plan to escape through the mines and they staged the explosion. They killed hundreds of people, destroyed thousands of lives to keep me inside Chelon
’
s walls.

Zink pulls at me again and I sway into him. A rushing sound fills my ears and pulses through my head to my stomach.

“
She will be back with dinners soon, rest up Frehn,
”
Zink tells the others. He looks hard into Wex
’
s face. Wex
’
s eye twitches almost imperceptibly in response. Zink shunts me from the block and down the corridors. Before we reach the elevators, he quickly looks around and shoves me sideways into a Keeper
’
s closet shutting us in complete darkness.

I can feel myself starting to hyperventilate. Zink
’
s arms fold around me,
“
It
’
s alright. It
’
s going to be alright,
”
he repeats over and over.
“
We are going to get through this.
”

“
They know, Zink. They know. They will kill them,
”
I start gagging, the visions of mangled people and bodies spilling from the mouth of the mine mixing with images of Wex being hacked into pieces by an axe-wielding Mother.

“
If The Mothers wanted them dead, Frehn would have been killed in the explosion. They don
’
t make mistakes.
”

“
Does that mean we are going to be tortured with relentless, never-ending fear? Every morning I see them leave for Service might be my last? They will create catastrophes over and over until I break? What do they want from me?
”

“
The same thing they want from everyone else. Complete obedience. But they will not be able to get that from you. It
’
s impossible.
”
He holds me in the dark until I can breathe normally.
“
Listen to me, The Mothers will be overstimulated with the pain of today. They will not need to pursue PG3456 until things calm down. That gives you time to figure out how you are going to go forward. Because forward is the only direction you can go.
”

We leave the closet to retrieve the boxed rations, sidestepping the people returning from the canteen laden with white paper boxes. Three hours ago, the world was on fire. Now, the smoke is clearing and the people walk over the ashes as if nothing happened. When morning comes, the dead will already have been cremated in the pit and buried. The children of Chelon will continue as they did before, empty shells of human waste.

Zink and I stand in the line for our PGs
’
rations. When we return to the Quad, Zink leaves me for his residence compound. He has not seen his Play Group since lunch. It might as well have been a hundred years ago. I move in slow motion back to the block, forcing myself to move my feet at a natural pace. When I open the common room door, I see Doe has returned and is rewrapping Frehn
’
s leg. We say nothing to each other that does not have a direct connection to the food I
’
ve brought. We can all still see the light pulsing from the painted hand through my open door. We eat mechanically.

There are moments when the heavy feeling threatens to overcome me. Its long black smoke fingers sinking into my chest pushing me further away from those I love. Everything we have been building towards- the escape, life on the other side, relationships, love, freedom- detonated before our eyes, taking the lives of innocent people with it to the grave. The Heavy covers each of us as we wrestle with what the explosion means.