Enclave

we could examine what everyone else had and then barter for it with our best items. But if you lived in different buildings, people needed a place to gather and trade.

“Let’s take a look around.”

I led the way out, down a dark hall and into a bigger room. Metal shelves — we’d scavenged a few like that over the years — stood mostly empty. There were only a few tins left, nothing familiar, though, nothing I’d ever seen before. Broken glass crunched underfoot. Another door led to a waste closet, but this one didn’t smell like the other. Nearby, Fade twisted a handle but nothing happened.

“There used to be water, sometimes,” he said. “We used to drink it, my dad and me, but then he got sick.”

“From drinking that?”

“Maybe. I was a brat. There was a lot of stuff he didn’t tell me.”

“I have a little water to tide us over. Turn around.” Without asking why, he did. I struggled out of the leather harness. “Twist gave it to me. It has water pouches. The meat is gone, but I still have these.”

“Why? He risked everything by doing that.”

“I know.”

“I wish I could thank him.”

“I did for both of us. Let’s see what else there is here.”

We found another doorway off the hallway leading from the back room. I hadn’t seen it the first time because I wasn’t used to tunnels leading anywhere else. Fade noticed it and opened the door. Stairs led up.

“I thought this building had another level,” he murmured, and went jogging upward.

I didn’t know if going higher sounded like a great idea, but I wanted to stay by myself even less. Out of habit, I counted as I climbed, even though I could see perfectly well up here.

The steps opened into what I’d call a private living space. By my standards, it was unbelievably luxurious. Only the elders would’ve had something so nice in the enclave, but even they wouldn’t have gotten this much space. The room must’ve been sixteen feet long and almost that wide. I recognized the objects as furniture, but I had to ask Fade their names.

I burned with embarrassment when he grinned and pointed. “Sofa. Chair. Table.”

The sofa felt amazing when I sank onto it, despite its musty smell. Not even my rag pallet had been so soft. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes. I could hear Fade moving around, checking the place out.

“There’s another room,” he said. “We can each have our own space.”

“I’ll take the sofa.”

He sat down beside me. “So you had questions before.”

That sounded like an invitation to ask whatever I wanted. “You were born Topside … how long did you live here?”

“Eight or nine years? And then after my dad died, it got too dangerous. They chased me down into the tunnels, where I just … lost myself.” His eyes went dark and distant, as if the memories required careful handling.

I remembered how he’d been when the Hunters found him, barely human. Living alone in the dark for years would do that. I marveled once again that he’d survived.

“Why did you stay with us when you didn’t want to join the gangs?”

“The elders didn’t give me a choice,” he said. “Well, they did, technically. Once the Hunters caught me, they said I could fight for them or die.”

“Oh.” No wonder he’d hated us. We’d held him prisoner.

“I’m bigger now, and I’ve learned to protect myself. It’ll be different when we run across the gangs again.”

“What’s so bad about them? I mean, how do they compare with the enclave?” I still ached with disillusionment.

He half turned to face me, his arm resting behind my head. “You know all the rules you believed in? They exist to keep you safe, and the elders only want what’s best for everyone?”

I nodded, barely managing to restrain a flinch. “What about them?”

“The gangs have none. It’s … ugly, Deuce. My dad had weapons and they left us alone. Once he was gone, they were determined to recruit me. They don’t always take care of their brats. Sometimes…” His eyes bored into mine, as if willing me not to make him say it.

A shudder rolled through me. “Oh.”

At the enclave, there had been rare instances where the elders discovered the Breeders were twisted in that way. Those Breeders weren’t just exiled; they were also cut so the Freaks found them faster.

“You can see why I didn’t want to be initiated.”

I would’ve fought against it pretty fiercely myself. “Tell me what you know about the gangs. What we’ll be up against.”

“They’ll want to breed you,” he said without looking at me. “The only way to advance is to kill and keep killing until there’s nobody tougher than you left alive.”

“So it’s not like the enclave, where age is a sign of wisdom.”

He laughed. “No. We’d be considered elders. People don’t live very long.”

“But not because of sickness or age.”

“No. In the gangs, they kill you because you have something they want or you’re just standing in their way.”

“They must breed a lot to make up for it.”

Fade brushed my hair back, grazing the curve of my jaw. The heat of his fingertips sent a tingle through me. I tipped my head to one side so that his palm landed on the nape of my neck. His thumb skimmed along the tender skin, making me shiver. By the time he drew back slowly, I’d almost forgotten what we were talking about.

“That’s all they think girls are good for. There are no rules about it up here, either. You have no power.”

Pure cold seized me. So that was what he’d meant about it being dangerous in a different way. Up here being female meant something else entirely. The marks on my arms wouldn’t give anyone pause, but maybe my skill with a weapon would.

“I don’t think I can take any more answers tonight,” I admitted without looking up.

“You know the important stuff now.”

“Wait. Maybe one more.”

“Go ahead.”

“How did you get your name?” I’d always wondered.

For a moment I thought he wouldn’t answer, because according to enclave rules, it was an intrusive question. If I hadn’t been present, hadn’t contributed to the stack of gifts, then it should wait until he volunteered the information. But we didn’t live by their regulations anymore.

He delved into his bag and came with a tattered strip of paper. I took it, held it to the faint light, which was just strong enough to make out the shape of letters. They were so old that many of them had worn away:

C l rs w l n t fade.

His blood speckled lightly on the final word. I fingered the silky slickness of the paper, nothing like what we made in the enclave. It shone in the dark. He had attended my naming or I would produce my card. But he’d seen. He knew. Feeling honored, I handed the talisman back to him.

“It came off an old bottle,” he said. “But that was too big to carry around, so I peeled off the paper.”

“Do you know what it says?”

He stroked the edges with his thumbs; I could actually see the darker imprint where he’d done that often since his naming. “I think it says, ‘Colors will not fade.’”

To me, it sounded like a wonderful message, a promise of loyalty and fidelity. His colors would not fade or change, no matter what. The name fit someone who wouldn’t leave his partner, even when she disappeared in the dark, and who wouldn’t let her go Topside alone.

“It suits you.” I paused, wondering if I should ask. Maybe he didn’t remember. Maybe he wouldn’t tell me. “What did your sire call you?”

“Like you said, I’m Fade now. I’d rather not go back.”