So the search ended where it started, at the Foundation and Hampton Infirmary, the two largest and deepest caves on the island. They’d been used since day one, including having served as primary shelter for several months after The Day. A patch of preserved graffiti in the Foundation attested to the fact that teenagers hung out in the caves before The Day, hiding from their parents who drank themselves comfortably numb at the tiki bar.
Her father, Gary, didn’t aid Milly in her search. He’d gone into his shell and wasn’t coping well with the loss of Sarah. Neither was she, truth be told. She missed her mother far more than she thought she would. Seeing Randy’s confusion and sadness when told he couldn’t see his grandma, and that he would never see her again, broke her heart.
She’d searched every inch of the Foundation and the infirmary while on fire guard duty and found nothing. Both had spidery stone appendages that narrowed to nothing, but she saw no possible blocked entrances, or any sign that the cave walls were manipulated in any way. She had an idea, but she needed Peter’s help, and was afraid to ask. Their relationship turned chilly after she’d threatened him, and that suited her fine. Now she needed him, and she’d pull him back in.
“What doesn’t belong?” she asked Peter one night. They were on duty and had wandered into the infirmary.
“Um, the table?” Peter said.
“No, the walls, the way they curve,” Milly said.
The dark volcanic rock was pocked and cracked. Sharp to the touch in places, and smooth in others, the walls curved to the ceiling as if the space had been the interior of a cooled lava bubble. Jagged black rock marked the edges of the chamber, which had a stone pillar marking its center reaching from floor to ceiling. The column consisted of many small stones fit together and wasn’t a natural formation.
“Notice it yet?” Milly asked.
“Do you mean the support column? Everyone knows it’s not a natural formation. Doc Hampton said they added it for extra support,” Peter said.
“Yet it ties to no beams on the ceiling. It’s supporting the four by four square of ceiling above it, nothing more.”
“So… what? You want to take it down?”
Milly smiled.
They talked to Doc Hampton who refused to confirm or deny anything, but said, “The secrets of the island are secrets for a reason.” Milly hated when he talked like that, but he was an original islander, and if he didn’t know what her mother had meant, who would? Yet he refused to speak with her about it, adding only, “You’ll discover what you should when you should.” Peter tried speaking with his grandfather, but Ben tossed him down the steps in front of his shelter.
She was starting to think the elders of Respite were hiding something, a conspiracy like Ice-nine or a mind game like the Ludovico technique. She remembered her childhood before she knew about the gone world. Everything on Respite seemed so normal, and then they told her she lived on an island in a sea of ghosts. They were aliens on their own world. Some said God had wiped the Earth clean. What about them? Had God forgotten about them?
“You’re bezoomny,” Peter said. “Even if Doc helped us, the council will never let us rip up the infirmary.”
“We’ll put it back. And nobody is in there right now. It’s empty, and you and me can do it on our own time.”
Peter laughed. “No way. Tris will kill me.”
“Oh, right. You’re a little boy again. My mistake, Peter Pan.”
“What’s the end game, anyway? Why waste our time and make trouble for ourselves? Don’t we have enough secrets?” Peter said.
“I think when I find what I’m looking for we’ll have a way off the island,” Milly said. She felt that with all her being though she had no proof.
“The great quest we talked about when we were kids?” Peter said. “That’s what this is all about for you? I thought it was some book or machine or something.”
“You don’t wonder about what’s out there?” She smirked. He’d never had an answer for that. He loved her and would follow even if it meant losing Tris.
“Let’s be smart. Have Doc close this section for cleaning. You and I can do the work on our shifts. Take it down and put it back together in three nights. We’ll time it for when Doc is unlikely to stop by. Maybe when the weather’s bad.” Many of the old folks got their food delivered to Citi, so they didn’t have to climb up to the Womb.
He had a point. “Deal,” she said, and held out her pinky. On Respite, that was the sign of an accord.
Thunderstorms raged for two days, the sky dark to the horizon in all directions. Keeping the firewood dry took extra time, and while everyone else hid in their homes, Milly and Peter pulled double shifts of fire guard duty. Nobody wanted to work in the cold rain, and except for fire guard trainees who hauled wood, delivered food and water, and worked in the Fire Wood, they didn’t see many people. An occasional young citizen came to get water, but nobody used the fire to cook and relied instead on stored food.
They took extra care disassembling the column. On the underside of each stone, Peter scratched
