Gods Under The Dome

21.1

 《No Apocalypse Needed》

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We take turns perpetuating the silence between us as we walk, Lilly taking deliberately long strides to maintain her distance. It's like she's trying to win a race, one I hadn't been made aware of. Still though, I'd rather have this atmosphere, stifled and oppressive as it was, then the conversation that awaited us once we got wherever it was we were going.

Overhead, central air blasts down in us, rousing a few strands of my hair into disobedience. Beads of sweat form on my skin only to be wicked away before they can fall into my eyes. Windows on either side of us allow for sunlight to seep in from the outside, its warmth snaking around my skin. 

"They've opened the dome again," I say, shoving my hands into my pockets.

Lilly's shoulders tense, and she stops mid-gait, like my words had sprung a trap that left her foot hovering in the air. She doesn't bother to face me when she responds, though she remains frozen, affording me enough time to catch up with her. "I'd thought the air would stink," she says, wrinkling her nose. She side-eyes me as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Why's that?"

The ghost of a smile lifts the corner of her mouth, but before it can fully materialize, it's gone, and she's speeding ahead of me, about to round a corner.

I begin to sprint, light and darkness playing across my skin as I pass under a row of windows.

"Because everything outside the Aviaries withers and rots." Lilly stands a few feet away, pointing at a window beside her. I'm cautious to sidle up to her, but the curiosity sparked by what she's pointing at pulls me forward.

The window frames Central Sect's immense city where a cluster of skyscrapers look ready to pierce the dome. Behind them, runs a slit, where the glass dome has been opened, exposing us to a patch of pale blue sky. A cloud dips in front of the real sun, shrouding the city, and Lilly, in shadow. "Or at least," she continues, her voice lifting me out of my own head, "it should, but," her fingers clench around the edge of her blazer as her eyebrows knit together, "It doesn't reek."

I stop beside her, taking a few seconds to catch my breath. Lilly turns to me, a frown on her face even as the sun reemerges in the distance.

"What?" I say, wiping my bangs from my forehead. "You can't be that disgusted by my poor health." Her lips purse. Straightening, I add, "Besides, the motivation here is different. You have a lot less endurance when your life's not on the lin--"

"Beyond the dome doesn't smell like freedom either." Her words free fall out of her mouth, and at the end of it all, I'm left reeling.

"Ah," I say, feeling as though the ground had given away. My gaze settles on the rotating sign, floating overhead. A map of the Capitol's guts is displayed in flickering blue lines. Two red dots blink where Lilly and I stand. Other dots roam the building's labyrinthine corridors, their color a muted, unimportant beige.

Lilly snorts and stamps her feet. I whirl to face her. To my amazement, she's sporting a Marava-level scowl. "That's really," her brows pull nearer, forming an equator of anger across her face. "That's all you have to say? After everything?" She juts her chin. "What you said back there, how could you be okay with dying," her eyes dart toward the floor, "like that?"

The seconds pass between us, the anger on Lilly's face transforming into an anger trench as I blank on what to say. Thankfully, the oppressive moment between us is broken as two workers dressed in powder blue appear around the corner.