Read Wasteland (Wasteland - Trilogy) Online

Authors: Susan Kim,Laurence Klavan

Wasteland (Wasteland - Trilogy) (23 page)

The boy staggered backward, wishing he hadn’t yelled quite so loudly. Yet he sensed that Caleb wasn’t angry with him, or with the people of Prin.

Caleb turned and, without a word, walked away.

There was no sign of Esther, yet he refused to believe she was not somewhere nearby. Then he noticed a flicker of movement from an alley.

She was there, lurking in the shadows. Their eyes met; hers were full of questions. He was about to call to her, then stopped.

Several townspeople had caught up and flanked him. Caleb only had time to flash a warning to Esther before he was led away from her, in the direction of the highway.

PART THREE
THIRTEEN
 

A
NOTHER TOWN MEETING WAS ABOUT TO START IN THE ABANDONED
restaurant in the center of town, the one with the yellow arches looming high on their steel pole. However, unlike the last time, the air was festive and Rafe himself had trouble hiding his exultation.

Several days had passed since Levi and his men came to the town’s rescue during the latest attack, and the event had had a miraculous and lasting effect. Since then, there had been no fresh outbreak of violence, no new, senseless ambush of the town and its work teams. No one had even seen a mutant anywhere near the town’s limits. They seemed to have been frightened off for good, gone from the face of the earth.

With one glorious and decisive rout, Levi had put an end to the terror that had gripped Prin.

Now Rafe had different news to share, news that was even more exciting and significant. It was a plan he had had a hand in creating and helped make happen with his cleverness and quick thinking. It was crucial that as many of the townspeople as possible were present so he could explain it to them properly. He needed an enthusiastic majority of the town to vote the right way—namely, the way he wanted them to.

He had promised Levi nothing less.

By now, he had been invited to the Source no fewer than two times. He and Levi had established a good working relationship, he thought. It was almost too good to be true.

As he raised his hand for attention, it occurred to Rafe that his recent dealings with Levi reflected well on him. Right now, as everyone in the room began to settle, they were staring at him with open admiration and respect, something they had never done before.

It was an intoxicating feeling, one he wanted to last forever; and with any luck, it would.

If the townspeople did as he suggested, it would cement his relationship with Levi. Rafe wondered what this might mean for him: a new position at the Source? He might be made some sort of assistant, maybe even Levi’s second-in-command; and the thought of this made him shiver.

As always, he spoke softly, so the others were forced to lean in. “As you know, I been in discussion with Levi these past few days,” he began.

The room murmured its approval. After the decisive way Levi had vanquished the mutants, even those who once distrusted him were now his supporters. Rafe was happy to see that some of the biggest doubters—he ignored the inconvenient fact that he himself had been one of them—now banged on the laminated tabletops as enthusiastically as the others and stamped the ground with their sneakered feet.

“He’s done made a very generous offer to us,” he continued, “one that I helped him think up.” It dawned on him that no one would know if he stretched the truth. “But I don’t know how long he’s willing to keep it on the table.”

He paused, and as he knew they would, everyone stopped fidgeting and hung on his words.

“He’s willing to buy Prin from us,” he said at last, his voice unintentionally cracking with excitement. He cleared his throat and tried again. “He wants to take the whole mess right off our hands. What do you all think of that?”

There was a moment of silence as everyone in the room digested his words. Then at once, they all began talking.

“What do you mean, buy Prin?” called out a girl holding a younger child in her lap. “If he buys it, where we gonna live?”

“We need to find a new place, obviously,” said Rafe. This was an easy question, one of the four or five he had anticipated. “Someplace bigger, better. Because let’s face it—we done picked this whole area clean long ago. There ain’t nothing left for us here, especially after the mutants smashed the place up.”

“But they ain’t attacked in a while,” said one boy. “Maybe they done coming after us.” He sounded hopeful.

Again, this was something Rafe had anticipated.

“They only stopped on account Levi drove them off,” Rafe said. “How many times do you think he’s willing to do that?”

“Heck, if he wants it, I say he can have it,” a boy shouted, and several people laughed.

A girl raised her voice. “What’s he gonna give us in return?”

“He’s going to pay us in water and food supplies,” said Rafe. Again, it was an easy question; the meeting was going exactly as he had hoped. “I did some hard bargaining and here’s what we come up with. He’s willing to give each household half a crate of water and six months’ worth of flour, mixed grain, beans, and salt. I say that’s more than fair . . . supplies like that should last all of you a long, long time.”

Again, people started talking all at once, trying to shout each other down. Rafe was glad to see that most in the room were on his side: nodding their heads, arguing with their neighbors.

However, there were more than a few who looked like they had reservations about the idea. Some were shaking their heads in disagreement. Several were deep in thought, frowning and thinking hard. They worried him the most.

One of them was an older girl, who sat huddled on top of a table, her back against a window. She spoke up.

“If there’s nothing left here in Prin, why does Levi want it so bad?”

Rafe hadn’t thought of this. And, in truth, he didn’t really know.

He ignored her and tried to steer the discussion back to more comfortable ground, questions he knew the answer to and wished more people were asking.

“This is the kind of opportunity we been waiting for,” Rafe said, more loudly than he needed to. He could feel a trickle of sweat start to work its way down the back of his neck. “Now we can head out and find ourselves a new place, a place to build on. In fact, we can start sending scouts as soon as we vote tonight. We—”

“You didn’t answer her question,” someone called.

Before Rafe could pretend he didn’t hear and continue talking over this interruption somehow, another voice called, “Answer her question!”

Rafe licked his lips, trying to think of a way to get control again. People were starting to murmur, and doubt and skepticism rippled across the faces in front of him.

Trying to stave off disaster, he screamed, “I told you, this deal ain’t going to stay on the table unless we act fast! He’s being more than generous . . . he don’t have to offer us nothing! We should be grateful he even wants to do business with us in the first place!”

But by now, others were frowning and shaking their heads, looking at the girl who spoke.

“She’s right,” a boy said.

The others sitting at his table were nodding in agreement.

“Prin ain’t much, but it’s our home,” added another girl. “Got to have a better reason to leave it than a few months’ worth of food.”

Rafe was stunned that the mood had so quickly shifted and he was at a loss as to how to regain the upper hand.

“I say, let’s vote on it!” someone yelled, and there was general agreement.

Rafe swallowed hard, his mind reeling. Although he had called the meeting with a quick resolution in mind, that was now the last thing he wanted. If he allowed a vote, it was obvious which way it would go.

“Now, this was just an informational meeting,” he said. “Just to get the facts out. We’ll be scheduling a vote at a later time.”

He adjourned the meeting soon afterward. He stood by the door, stopping people to cajole or joke with them, trying to recapture some of the enthusiasm he had seen just minutes before. But even he was forced to admit it was a lost cause.

Desperately, all he could think was:
What would Levi say?

A lone figure neared the Excavation.

Disguised by her robes, Esther averted her face from those who passed.

She had spent difficult days and nights, trying not to be noticed in the streets she knew so well, sleeping in abandoned storefronts and surviving on whatever supplies she could steal. Throughout, she was haunted by what she had seen happen to Caleb. Why had she stood by as he was insulted and spat upon? For the thousandth time, she rebuked herself for not rushing forward when he was being led away.

She had not seen Caleb since.

Esther had to find him; but she could not risk being found within the town’s limits. She knew that to ask for help was both foolhardy and dangerous. She would not have come to this Excavation site if she had had another choice.

Even though it was crowded with abandoned cars and trucks, the asphalt area surrounding the Source was too exposed; it would be suicide to approach that way. Instead, Esther took the indirect route, circling far around and through the back fields. Creeping through the tall grass in order not to make any rippling movement, she was able to get close to the trench. Soon, she could make out the rhythmic clank of shovels hitting dirt and rock and the voices of workers calling to one another.

Esther lay motionless in the grass, only a few feet from the pit, with her eyes shut so she could hear better. As the team members yelled to one another, she found she could identify who each person was and she started to keep a silent tally of who was there.

“Break time,” called a voice. “Lunch.”

With her belly pressed low to the ground, Esther listened to the clatter of tools being tossed aside as one by one, the workers pulled themselves up over the ledge. She pictured how they looked, with their robes caked with dirt and clay. Most of them were probably retrieving their nylon backpacks, stashed in the backseat of a car or truck to keep them safe from wild animals. Now she imagined them pulling out bottles of water and plastic containers of porridge and beans, yanking down their masks and chatting with each other as they headed off to the relative shade of a small copse of trees nearby.

The last person to leave the pit took a moment to sit on the edge. Esther heard him knock the soles of his sneakers together to dislodge the red clay. Having tracked who had left, she was fairly certain who it was. More important, she was desperate enough to take the chance.

“Eli,” she whispered.

The boy looked up, and Esther waved him over. When he saw her, his face broke into an unbelieving smile beneath his mask.

“Esther?” he said.

With a quick glance to see if anyone else had noticed, Eli exited the trench. Esther had already retreated into the tall grass. He stooped low and made his way toward her through the sun-bleached weeds that grew as tall as his waist. When he reached her, she was kneeling, almost completely hidden by the towering blades. Eli took off his gloves and pulled down his mask so he could speak.

“What are you doing here?” Although he seemed overjoyed to see her, his face was creased with worry. “If the others catch sight of you—”

“I know.” She took a deep breath, then plunged ahead. “I need to talk with you. It’s real important.”

A flush broke over Eli’s face and he stared at the ground, smiling hard.

“I was hoping you’d make up your mind soon,” he said, his voice husky. Then he cleared his throat and looked up at her. “I can talk to the others. That Rafe, he’s just full of air. If I go see him first, he’s bound to see reason.”

Esther stared at him, confused.

“What?” she said.

As usual, Eli wasn’t listening. He reached for her and, to Esther’s shock, took her hand firmly in both of his.

“We’ll get that sentence thrown out,” he said. “We’ll see this through together. I promise you that.”

Esther jerked her hand away before she realized what she was doing; too late, she saw the look of bewildered hurt flash across his face. Inwardly, she cursed herself yet again for her clumsiness, her rashness.

“I’m . . . I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I can’t be your partner. But that’s not why I’m here. I need your help.”

Eli looked as if someone had hit him, hard, when he wasn’t expecting it. He stared into the distance, shaking his head. Then he laughed, mirthlessly.

“Help?” he said. “You tell me you won’t be my partner, but you still say you want my help?”

Esther swallowed hard. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered again. She had blundered every step of the way, she realized now.

Yet she still needed him, and any help he could provide.

“I’m sorry to have to ask you. But I don’t know who else to go to. You’re pretty much the only person in Prin who’s ever been nice to me.”

Eli snorted. “And look what good that’s done me.”

He was still gazing off, blinking hard, his eyes bright. Yet without looking at her, he seemed to be softening.

“What is it you need me to do?”

Esther was overwhelmed with relief.

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