“Why isn’t the military working with you?” Peter asked.
“They went into their shell at the beginning and never came out. They don’t even go after zombie nests as far as I know,” Gerall said.
“Yeah, about the virals,” Milly said.
Tester spoke. “Mutation of the virus. XK119 was the most adaptive virus ever seen. It attacked based on your specific genetic code, tailoring its attack to your particular ethnicity.”
“But why them? Why didn’t they die like the rest?” Tye said.
“Unknown. All I know is based on very early research being done as they looked for a cure,” Tester said.
“Now I have a question,” Gerall said. “How the hell did you get here?”
Tye told the story, and when they got to Hansa’s disappearance, Gerall said, “An odd child. If you can call her that. Kat and she were born a year apart.”
“Are there others like her?” Tye said.
“Not exactly, but similar in that they’re frozen in time, so to speak. Their gifts are different and less pronounced, but that’s just here. We’ve heard tales of much stranger things outside Stadium,” Tester said.
Tye looked at Milly, then at Tester and Gerall. “You have communications?”
“Oh yes. We talk to other outposts around the world, listen in on the military traffic,” Gerall said.
“Can we try to contact Respite?” Tye said.
“Even if you were on the same frequency, at the same time, it would be hard due to the distance. What type of equipment do they have?”
“An emergency radio,” Tye said.
“They might hear us as our signal bounces off the ionosphere. Signals have been known to travel half-way around the world, but there are many variables. I doubt we’d be able to receive them at this distance. Two-way communications is out of the question.”
Tye had always known this on some level, and the ear was only on for an hour, which was a small window of opportunity. Tye rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.
“But if we had a frequency and a time? Would you let us try?” Milly said.
“I’d have no problem adding that to your bill,” Gerall said.
“Our bill?” Tye said.
“Oh,” Gerall looked at Tester, who laughed. “Did you think our rescue services, transportation, food, wine, and use of our communications array is free?”
“We don’t have any money, or anything of value,” Tye said.
“Money. Money means nothing here. You need credits, and the only way to earn them is to work for them, or sell something for them.” Gerall laughed and looked at Tester again. “And they don’t look like they have much to sell.”
“You said we could leave when we wanted?” Milly said.
“I did, and you can. Once you pay your bill.”
Chapter Fifteen
Year 2069, Houston, Texas
One more day turned into a week, which turned into a season, and seven months slipped away as Milly and the rest of the fellowship tried to settle their bill. They shared food rations to take a little off the debt, but clothes and rent cost credits, and when Robin took ill and needed the attention of Gerall’s medic, they fell further behind. The group made it a point to gather at Zee’s for a drink regularly to compare notes and plan, but with each passing day these meetings became less frequent. Their discussions had moved on from paying back the bill and drifted toward working on escape.
Eating beef and vegetables four nights a week alone was enough to put the road and the turtle out of Milly’s mind, but as the days flew by, her need to move on grew. The group had spread out as they blended into Stadium. Peter stayed with her in the Concourse B temporary housing because he wouldn’t have it any other way, but the rest were on their own. Tye was around all the time, but Robin and Jerome lived in another section and their duty cycles were different. Milly never went to the second tier, and all work performed in the upper bowl was done under armed guard, regardless of status. Gerall saw that the fellowship got decent jobs. Tye had skills and worked on the maintenance crew and the rest were jobbers and filled in for citizens who missed work. Tye said that made Milly a temp, and she didn’t like the sound of that at all.
They sat around a table in a corner of Zee’s, sipping their favorite drinks and racking up more debt as they rehashed topics they’d discussed many times, sinking themselves in familiarity before getting down to the serious stuff. The bar hummed with chatter and laughter, and Milly closed her eyes and imagined she was in the Womb.
“People at field level aren’t the worst off, not even close. Great halls, rooms and tunnels snake beneath the arena and people live down there in the dark, though they’re permitted on field level and in the first bowl common areas,” Peter said. Milly and the rest understood this, but Peter had been dispatched below on clean-up detail and had come back white-faced and in shock. He was still in a daze as he described conditions Milly wouldn’t let a pet hog live in.
“The people on ground level and in the first bowl are middle class, brother,” Tye said. Milly still didn’t fully understand what class was, and she didn’t think she wanted to. “Most folks are in debt to Stadium and have been for years. They make just enough credits for food, clothes, and lodging tax and such. People don’t even know how much they owe because they never intend to pay it off.”
“What happens if you owe too much?” Jerome said.
“What is too much?” Robin said.
“There’s the rub,” Milly said. “All that is at the discretion of Gerall, who maintains control with a well-paid security force, most of which live in the middle
