Inside

Chapter 10

Ten

"How long have you been down here exactly?" Jathrel asks as he slurps his plastic bowl.

"Oh..." the question catches me off guard. "Well... uh..."

I start counting in my head all the days, but I can't remember how long we were in Midtown. Too long, that's for sure.

"Eight days," Crome answers for me with a mouthful of soup.

Jathrel decided to take a break to eat and nap if anyone was tired. But none of us were.

I slurp my soup and try to remember the last time I ate. All I know is that we were already outside. Suddenly I wonder how Jathrel got his food. It's exactly like the one I have, but mine is from Inside. Then I realize I'm too hungry too ask, so I continue to slurp.

"This is the eighth day," Crome repeats.

Crome has been next to me ever since yesterday, when Jathrel let us walk without being bounded back by his crew. He's been asking if I'm ok every few seconds. I had to tell him to stop by saying, "I'll tell you when I'm not ok."

Dublin has been stuck to my side, as well. Probably because these viking-like men freak him out. Dublin noticed when I tried to subtly tell Crome to stop asking. When he laughed, Crome's stare immediately stopped him. I'm starting to get used to this disfunctional group. Although these four new guys have been added, and they'll take me longer to get used to.

"Eight?" The little man, whose name is Tive, asks surprised. "Tat means yew should be six days away." "Yeah," Crome says making it sound like 'yeah, and?'

"We're four days away," Jathrel answers never looking away from his bowl.

"Four!" Dublin yells into my right ear making me flinch. "Sorry," he then whispers. "We've been moving fast!"

"Mh," the big shadow guy, Mackle, nods. He doesn't talk much. All he does is grunt, chuckle, and nod. But then there's Lincoln. He never even makes eye contact. By his body language I assume he's around my age, unlike the others, who are older than Crome.

Dublin looks at me with the same thrilled, little kid smile as always. His browns eyes glow with excitement as he stares at me. It's almost as if he's trying to tell me, "We're so close! Yay!" But that excitement won't rub off on me. I'm looking forward to seeing the Outside, but not exactly excited.

"We didn't waste time in Midtown. I want to get out as soon as possible," Crome answers. 'And I'm a witness,' I almost say remembering the sleepless days. Or were they nights? I didn't really look at my mech-wrist to see what time it was.

"Smart," Jathrel says wiping his lips with his forearm. "Most of you Cra- uh, Insiders wander around Midtown for too long."

"Ye," Tive adds. "Tey go into everry tunnel tey pass by and grrab all kind o' useless tings: clothes, ol' books, supposed maps."

I look up at Dublin whose smile faded in a comical way. Crome sees it too and starts chuckling with me.

Tive ctahces on and says "Rreally?" elongating the 'r' sound.

"Yeah," I answer and point to Dublin. "He went insane in Midtown."

"He was running into every single cave and grabbing all kinds of things," Crome adds.

"Oh," Jathrel says a bit disappointed. Probably thought we weren't like that. Which we aren't; Dublin is.

"Well, did you find anything useful?" Jathrel asks probably out of being polite. He looks away clearly expecting a 'no'.

"Yes," Dublin says happily. "Maps."

"Maps," Jathrel's head snaps up.

"Yes," Dublin almost squeals with excitement as he realizes that he just might have found people that have the same interests as he. At least one same interest.

"Let me see," Jathrel says seriously; on the verge of anger. This catches Dublin off guard. He stops smilling and reaches slowly to the bag where he stuck his maps in.

Jathrel snatches the papers from Dublin's hands and his crew surround him as he tries to read the maps. The only one who doens't huddle around the map is the silent one. Lincoln sits still slurping his soup, never ever looking up. Jathrel grabs the flashlight from Tive and turns the paper. Then he grunts frustrated.

"I know these tunnels," he says pointing to the map. "But I've never seen these. Where are the directions? And what are these lines?"

"Scratches," Dublin says too loud and too quickly making them jump. Even the Lincoln jumps and looks up.

"Scrrat-ches, you say?" Tive asks suspiciously.

Dublin nods roughly and adds, "They've been down here too long."

"I heard these papers have a covering that keeps them intact for some time," Jathrel states.

Dublin looks at them wide-eyed then at me as if I have an answer for that. Yeah, because I'm a Crake and know all about Crake-stuff. He doesn't look away, so I do.

"We don't know how long they've been here. The chemical could have worn off," I answer repeating what Dublin told me a couple of days ago. Then I look down at my soup and slurp it, trying to look nonchalant.

"Right," Dublin says quietly and unsure. I fight the urge to slap Dublin right across the face. If he would have stayed quiet, they might have believed me and let it go. But thanks to Dublin's uncertainty, they're going to know something's up. Dublin needs to learn to act, and if he can't, then he should learn to stay quiet.

Jathrel nods and gives the map back to Dublin, who thanks him with a slight nod.

"If I don't know how to read it, I can't tell you what it says," Jathrel says hinting he knows those markings are an actual language. Way to go, Dublin.

"Sorry," Jathrel adds.

"Oh... it's ok, we'll figure it out," Dublin answers. Jathrel nods and pays attention to his soup once again, letting go the map's "lines" issue. He knows Dublin doesn't want to tell. I'm actually surprised he doesn't push it... and grateful that he stays quiet.

"Doesn't matter," Crome breaks the engulfing silence that surrounded us after that awkward conversation. "We're going where you're going."

"Ah, right," Jathrel says as if he had forgotten.

"Betterr not give us much trrouble," Tive says. "Tat wouldn't be wise."

Tive looks at us and sends what was suppose to be an amiable smile. Instead, it's an ominous grimace. I return the "smile" while Crome glares at him and Dublin furrows his eyebrows, looking distraught.