The Pioneers

Chapter 14

A note had been left on the living room table at the house:

        "At the elevator.

            Bring water and food."

            Amaryllis followed its directions. It took longer to walk with her hands full, but her discovery was fuel enough to keep her walking, even after her arms felt like they were going to fall off.

              At the elevator, she found Ethan working the same as usual . . . there was a gash in the side of his leg, above his ankle. She would've questioned it, but he had a pillowcase tied as tight as it would go around the joint. He was taken care of, and he wouldn't want to dwell on it.

             "Hi, Ethan." She waited until he'd stopped using the pickaxe so he could hear her. Once she was within earshot, he turned around, set the tool down, and then ran to go take the things out of her hands.

             "Hi," he said. He turned around and set the food and water on the steps. "How are you?"

             "Good," she said, hopping up to the top of the steps. He'd gotten a couple inches into the dirt, slowly carving out a space big enough for their tiny bodies to eventually slip through. "This got deeper."

               "I left my job early so I could come and work on it," he said, walking up the steps to stand at her side. Despite his injury, and the new coat of dirt over his face, he was beaming with pride over his effort. "The wall can't be any thicker than a foot. If we keep working at it, we'll be all the way through by the end of the week."

                "We'll have to cover it up," Amaryllis said.

               "I know," Ethan said. "Tomorrow, we'll bring a sheet or a board or something with us. It'll have to be covered in dirt, though. We'll want it to camouflage."

               "You could wear a sheet around your neck to your job tomorrow," Amaryllis said. "Then it'll be plenty camouflaged."

            Ethan smiled, and then handed her the pickaxe. "Mind taking over for a few minutes?"

             "I need to talk to you first."

             "Something wrong?"

             She set the pickaxe aside again. "I think I know what they're making me build."

              "Did they show you?" Ethan picked up a water bottle. There were only three left. What happened when they ran out?

             "No," she said. "I snooped."

             Ethan's beam of pride faded. "What did you see?"

             Amaryllis folded her arms. She grabbed the pickaxe and started working, ensuring that she held and swung it the way he'd taught her. "A dragon."

* * *

Lights in houses had gone out by the time they'd finished.

          Amaryllis picked up the trash from the food, and Ethan carried the pickaxe as they walked home.

          "It sounds," Ethan whispered, "like they want us distracted."

          To keep themselves awake, they'd discussed what Amaryllis had seen and heard. She tried to relay as much information as she could, and Ethan had an answer for all of it.

           She didn't like the answers, whether it was coming out of his mouth or theirs.

            "It sounds like the 'wave' involves damaging the surface, somehow," he whispered, jerking his head to the side whenever he heard a noise that might be the result of someone listening to them. "Could be bombs. Could be nukes. Could also be a literal wave, like a flash-flood."

            ". . . Would nukes be the reason they're sealing off openings to the surface?" She said.

           "I'm not entirely sure," he said. "I don't know if we'd be safe from nukes down here . . . if dirt walls keep the radiation out, then maybe that's the reason they're sealing everything off. But I don't know what can and can't keep radiation out, so anything I say on that matter is just a theory."

          "If they are nukes," she said. "Are we sure we want to head to the surface as fast as we are?"

          They were now on the street with their house. Even their whispers quieted, trying to keep any outside eyes and ears away.

           "Nothing is concrete, yet," he said. "Are you sure they didn't see you?"

           "I don't think so."

           Ethan nodded under the porchlight of their house. "Then, we can know it's legit. Not a scare tactic."

            They ran into the house.

           "Shouldn't we postpone the plan, then?" She said.

           Ethan dropped the pickaxe next to the living room table, quietly closing the door. "No."

            "But what if we—"

            "We don't know that they're nuking anything," he said. "Our goal is to get the crap out of here, and if we have to find shelter from fire or floods to do so, then we'll figure it out."

           "They said they wanted us to think we're being generous," Amaryllis said. She set the trash on the table. "Doesn't that mean that when those people go to the surface, they'll be in danger somehow?"

          Ethan walked away. "We'll figure out what the 'wave' is," he said. "And then we'll prepare for it. We'll know we're on crunch time once they legitimately start talking about sending people off."

           Amaryllis breathed in.

           If you say so.

           "We'll be prepared. That's a huge advantage," he called back. "We'll be okay."