Deliverance (18 page)

“And yet, here you are,” Miriam says. She watches me through narrowed eyes. I'm not doing a very good job at pleading my case.

I swallow hard. “Here I am.”

“Do you know who we are?” Miriam asks.

I shake my head, glancing around the room. Cots and makeshift beds are situated against the walls, and it's obvious these people live here at the back of the store. “Am I still in Greater City?”

“No,” Miriam says. “You left it behind with the brick buildings. This is one of the Broken Cities.”

“Are you Lessers?” I ask.

Miriam laughs, but it isn't a humorous laugh. Her face settles into a bitter mask. “We are nothing. Not Greater, Middle, or Lesser. We are those who live on our own. We are the Free.”

What? I never knew such people existed. “How can you live on your own?”

“We stay hidden,” she says. “We move around a lot as well.”

“Are you Christians?” I ask, “Because that's all I was looking for.” Offending her seems like a bad idea in a room full of her people, but I'm not sure even I want anything to do with people who are nothing—not Greater, Middle, or Lesser. It seems dangerous, even though the people in the past had no rank.

Her hard mask slips away, and she smiles slightly. “Yes, we are believers. We do our best to spread the message, but it's hard when we can barely go out in the daylight.”

No wonder they can walk through the dark store without trouble.

“Will you teach me?” I ask. They owe me nothing, especially not when I barged in on them like this.

Miriam turns to the group. “What say you?”

 

 

 

 

28

 

They keep me at the center of their group, sitting in the middle of a ring of people. I feel like a trapped animal, one I'd see at the butcher back home. Mr. Garner often set traps near the levies to catch random animals to sell in the market for meat. We were taught early on not to go near the traps. Obviously, I never learned my lesson.

Miriam stands beside me now, the only person not sitting. She clears her throat and begins.

“Two hundred years ago, when the wars ended and the enemies left, the people who stepped forward to lead our nation had to think of a way to make things work. They had many, many people to care for, and most of them had nothing to offer. They were weak, maimed, poor, old. Those who were healthy and able stepped forward to lead. They divided the people into groups according to how much they could contribute—those who were healthy and strong became the Greaters, though they didn't call themselves that. Back then they were noble people, truly concerned with helping the masses. The next group was those who could contribute something, but perhaps not at the same level. They had land to offer, or services, even if they weren't strictly necessary services. They became the Middles. The last group was the Lessers. They were the elderly, the injured, and the dying. They were the widows with children to feed, or the people with illness. The leaders vowed to help this group and provide for them, since they couldn't provide for themselves.”

The people in the storeroom sit quietly. They must know this story, but the few of us from Greater City haven't heard it before, and we sit eagerly, soaking up every word of this alleged history that we've never been told.

In school, my teachers told how the Greaters had saved us all, and I guess they did, but hearing it from Miriam's point of view is different. She doesn't make the Greaters sound like royalty—she makes them sound like everyday people who wanted to help.

I've never felt like I could be a Greater, but looking at them in this new light, I think maybe I can.

“Something was lost during that time, though,” Miriam goes on. “The wars devastated something that had always been a foundation in America—religion. The churches had been destroyed. The Bibles. The hymn books and songs of worship.

“The Greaters were too busy rebuilding cities and a way of life to notice, and the Middles were too busy taking orders from the Greaters. It was the Lessers who clung to the religions. As generations passed away, some things were passed down and others were lost. When the Greaters started changing—when the children of the children were stepping into leadership—some of the Lessers realized the turn their world was taking. They saw that the new Greaters considered them a burden. There were laws being made that said they couldn't leave their cities, and the Greaters began rationing their food, water, and electricity. A large group of Lessers decided to leave their city before it was too late.

“At first, no one seemed to mind. The Greaters were glad some of their burden had been relieved. But then a new generation of Greaters came into rule. They saw the Free as a threat. This group of Greaters was the same group who decided religion had to be wiped out completely. Religion promoted division, they said, and they outlawed any form of belief. It wasn't hard to do, since by this time the Lessers were the only people who continued to believe and not even all of them. It was this generation of people who formed the basis of most laws we know today.”

Someone emerges from the dim light and begins passing around a basket. When it reaches me, I take a piece of bread and mumble a thank you. It's the first time I realize I haven't eaten in hours. I momentarily consider how much time I have to make it home before I have to be at the Training Dome, but I push the thought away as Miriam continues.

“The Free believe something happened during that generation. Something changed those Greaters like nothing ever had before. We don't know what it was, but their laws were more harsh than any generation before them, and they have been hunting us ever since.”

“Why do you stay so close to Greater City?” I ask. It seems like the worse place to be.

“They won't obliterate us here,” Miriam says. “It's too close to their home.”

“But they're shifting away from here. They're moving further east, and they put more distance between themselves and you with each new building they construct.”

She considers this new information, as does the rest of the group. Their murmurs create a din in the room.

Miriam hushes them with raised hands. “We've survived this long. God will provide.”

The rest of the night we discuss future meeting times. I tell her about the prison, and how I hope to get inside, and she promises to help me with anything I need.

“I can also get supplies,” she says. “If you need something for your missions, you can ask me.”

“How do you get them?”

She smiles. “Not all Greaters are evil.”

It is well into the morning hours when I finally head back to Greater City. It's much easier to find my way the second time through, and this time I'm not travelling alone. None of us speak as we race over the rubble, and when we get close to the outskirts of Greater City, we go our separate ways.

I take the only route I know—the road near the lake.

The sky is barely beginning to lighten when I make it to my apartment building and hurry inside. I have two hours before I have to be at the Training Dome, which means I should be able to get a solid hour of sleep before I need to get ready.

My last thought before drifting off is of Keegan. If Supreme Moon finds out what I did tonight, Keegan will be gone forever.

 

 

 

 

29

 

By midday I can barely keep my eyes open. Professor Higgins rambles on and on, but I don't absorb any of it. All I can concentrate on are the things Miriam told me last night, and I want to get back there. I never did find out what the flashing machine was, or what the girl was doing in the crumbling house in the first place. How did the other Greaters who were present find out about Miriam's meeting place? It must have been the non-evil Greaters she talked about.

“Hana?” Professor Higgins' voice breaks through my daydreams.

I resurrect and give him my full attention.

“Did you have anything to add?” he asks.

My blank face must give me away. He frowns and strides over to me. “Are you sick, Hana?”

I shake my head. “I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't sleep well last night. What was the question?”

“We will be travelling to Lesser City 6 in two days. They are one of the more successful Lesser cities as an outlying city. Did you have anything to add?”

“No sir, nothing,” I say. I'm fully awake now. The outlying Lesser cities are a complete mystery to me, and the thought of visiting perks me right up.

“Wonderful. I hope to visit each of them,” Professor Higgins says, moving away. “At least most of them.” He doesn't explain, and he doesn't name the ones we won't visit. But I have an idea, based on the files he showed me before the other students arrived for training. There are two cities that were especially suspicious to me—4 and 5. Particularly 4, which seemed the most violent. And 5 was the one titled “internment camp.”

The other students may not visit Lesser 5, but I will.

The day finally ends, and I drag myself toward home and my apartment. Kassy walks with me.

“Do you want to come over tonight?” she asks. The look in her eyes tells me she has something specific in mind, but I can't bear the thought of staying awake another hour, not even for good information.

“I'm so tired, Kassy. Can we do it tomorrow?”

She frowns, her face questioning, but she doesn't protest.

This is good. She doesn't need to know I've found Broken City or what is hiding inside of it. At least not yet.

A sliver of guilt works its way inside my brain. Should I be shutting Kassy out when she's the one who told me about Broken City?

We reach our building and I push the guilty feelings away.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” I say.

She waves and we part ways. Nothing ever sounded better than sleep in this moment, and I trudge across the floor to my bed. As I lie down and let my eyes slide closed, the HELP comp dings.

Groaning, I glance at the screen.

Communication Received
flashes across the comp.

I could ignore it. I want to ignore it. But the thought of someone sending me my very own message is too hard to resist. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and hurry to the screen.

The message appears when I tap the box.

City tour, tonight. S.

No! The last thing I want to do is to spend the evening with Sindy. Besides, I don't want to go anywhere but to sleep. They must have noticed I was gone last night, even though they can't know where I went.

I climb back into bed for a few hours' rest, and I'm out as soon as my head hits the pillow.

The knocking on the door rouses me from my dreams.

“Go away,” I mumble.

The knocking continues and the fog in my brain extinguishes enough for me to remember Sindy was coming over.

“Coming,” I manage to yell.

She breezes in through the door as soon as I open it, but she stops short when she sees me. “Are you sick?”

Why does everyone keep asking me that? Too bad I'm not because that would be an excellent excuse.

I sigh and shake my head. “No, just tired.”

“Ah yes. You were out late last night, I heard. Which is why Supreme Moon decided you needed a tour, so you wouldn't be out wandering anymore.”

I force a smile. “Very considerate of him.”

Sindy sighs and walks to the couch, her shoes not making a sound on the plush carpet. “Go get ready now. I'll wait.”

“Of course.” I hurry to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. I do feel slightly more alive now that I've had some sleep. I change my clothes and grab something to eat from the food service, and together we head into Greater City.

“What would you like to see?” she asks, glancing around. “We've been to the concert arena and the lake. You've seen the training area. What else is there?”

I think about my options and a wave of homesickness sweeps over me. It must be the exhaustion. “Are there any houses in Greater City? All I've seen are huge buildings.”

She draws back, her smile replaced with confusion. “You want to see houses?”

“I want to see families. Or does everyone live in one-room apartments?”

“Oh, that's all. We do have families, and they have bigger apartments. Everyone lives in the city.” She shudders. “No one has lived in a house for years.”

She says it like there's something wrong with a suburb.

“Let's see a show instead. I'll take you to the entertainment district.”

Why did she even ask for my opinion?

She leads me to a transporter and we squeeze inside.

We arrive in no time. The building is different than the sky scrapers that rise to the clouds. This building is low and wide, like the
Priceco
, but it's much nicer. Lights dance and twinkle around various HELP screens built into the walls. Pictures flash across the screens, advertising the movies playing. People mill in and out of the doors, some laughing and some crying. The clatter of the people reminds me of the children at the park back in Middle City 3.

Beyond the theater are other stores. Some low and some tall, but all massive. Signs adorn the fronts of the buildings in bright, neon colors. No handpainted wooden signs hang over the doors like the stores back home. These ones blink, flash, and even play music.

“Do you like shopping?” Sindy asks. She glances at the stores. “You get to buy whatever you want, remember, as long as you're obeying the rules. We'll have to check with Supreme Moon, but I think it might be acceptable to take you shopping soon.”

I hold in my laugh. It was a very nice way of saying I haven't done a great job of playing by the rules so far.

We enter the theater, passing through the sea of people. If I ever thought the streets of Greater City were crowded, I was dead wrong. I have only seen a small fraction of the Greaters compared to the masses congregated here tonight. They must love their entertainment.