The Pioneers

Chapter 8

1231.

            Amaryllis stared at their house until walking caused it to fall completely out of view.

            She repeated the numbers in her head, and refused to look at any other houses for fear that what she'd memorized would become jumbled and unclear. The only other place that she fixed her eyes to was the crowd, catching brief glances at any faces that turned her direction.

           Her fatigue was probably the reason it was so hard to see what was around her, that and the roof of ground overhead blocking out the light . . . she tried to alter her pace depending on who she was trying to get a good look at, only enough so that she could move a little faster in front, then look back and analyze their face, but that took a great deal of squinting and strain.

             As they passed lampposts, Amaryllis tried to use them to her advantage. It would've worked if they weren't so far apart from each other.

            The light would cause miosis, and would disorient her quite quickly once she was back in the darkness.

             She worked hard, and probably destroyed something in her eyes from forcing them through so much. It'd seemed to be a useless endeavor, too. By the time the crowd stopped walking, she had found no one that resembled her parents.

             "In here!"

             Now that they were near their destination, the voice was stronger.

             "In here!"

             It was still distant and far away, and the accent was that of the redhead, but it belonged to someone else, someone much louder, yet too unclear and quiet for the rest of his words to be interpreted as sentences.

             The voice originated from another building that they approached, but not a skyscraper; it looked like the architecture that you would see in a modern-day high school. Flat roof, with the base stretching the length of half a street out. It had been built with red bricks, and a paint job on all window frames, which accented the red with a dark blue.

             There were more lampposts surrounding the building than there were on the street. Amaryllis took note of that . . . maybe Ethan would have insights on why the streets were kept so dark compared to everywhere else.

              Closer to the door of the building, the people squeezed closer together to find their way inside. Amaryllis tensed her shoulders, trying to avoid getting squeezed out of the crowd. With everyone so close, and with better lighting, she could see faces.

              She could see them so well that at one point, she stopped following them, turned around and stared at each individual face as they passed her.

               There were plenty of other kids and teenagers that made eye contact with her, and a few of the especially young ones would smile and wave. Amaryllis tried to smile back, but her eyes would veer back to the adults, searching for the right set of eyes, hair color, jaw . . .

               "Inside."

              Nearly all faces passed.

               From what she could tell, none of them were related to her.

               She still waited, though. There were still people approaching. A few feet closer, and she would have a good view of . . .

               "Inside!"