The trip took half the night. Where the river twisted and turned, so did we. This part of the ruins was quiet, a place where the spirits of the dead ghosted on the wind and whispered across my skin. So much had been lost. I marveled at the size of it all and tried to work out the purpose of the buildings we passed.
I liked the gentle light of what Fade called the moon. Tonight it had swelled from when we first came Topside.
“Will it get bigger?” I asked.
He followed my gaze upward with a faint smile. “Yes. It turns into a perfect circle. Sometimes it’s silver and sometimes it can glow almost orange. Other times it’s golden, but never as bright as the sun.”
I didn’t like the sun. Neither Tegan nor Fade seemed bothered by it as I was, but I hated the thing. I thought it might well burn me up, if given the chance. When it set fire to the sky, I wanted to hide, or I might end up like a chunk of meat on Copper’s spit, all the juices crackling out of me. I tried to hide the worst of my fear because I didn’t want them to think I was weak.
Tall, abandoned buildings surrounded us. Green covered the sides, growing in along the stone and rock. Parts had crumbled away from lack of care, showing the insides. I had the wild idea we could climb up, as if over the bones of a great beast. I had to pick my way carefully, avoiding enormous holes and sunken bits of rock. The plants had grown wild here for so long, they had reclaimed the whole area: Tall ones Fade called trees and long ones he named grass that flowed in the wind as if brushed by invisible hands.
Eventually we came upon an enormous structure built from gray rocks. It too had been claimed by the green; a web of leaves wound up the sides. A vast number of broken steps led up to the gaping doors, and two giant stone monsters guarded the entrance. I eyed them warily. We all stopped and stared. Unlike the others, this place had an air of majesty, even in its disrepair. I could tell great things had happened here.
“And this whole place is full of books?” Tegan asked.
“It’s supposed to be. That’s what my dad said.”
She studied her feet. “My mom didn’t talk to me much, unless she was saying, ‘Be quiet, they’re coming’ or ‘We have to run now.’”
“What was she like?”
“My mom?” At my nod, she grew thoughtful. “She looked like me, but she was always scared. I don’t think I ever saw her when she wasn’t.”
If I had a brat to protect, I’d be scared too. Fade mounted the stairs at a run, as if trying to flee the memories Tegan’s words evoked. Or maybe now that we were here, he was just eager to find out what secrets the building contained. So was I.
The doors had been broken at some point. No paint marred the exterior, so this wasn’t ganger territory — a lucky break for us. But someone had been desperate to get inside. We stepped from the chill into a dark stillness. I could tell there were books all over the place, a few still on the enormous wall of shelves, but mostly they had been torn, broken and flung around, as if by wild animals. A certain smell made me think some might be nesting here.
“We’ll have to wait for daylight before we can read anything,” Fade said.
I agreed with a nod. “But should we check the place out while we do?”
Tegan shivered. “I hate the idea there’s something in here with us.”
“Something might be better than
“True. Let’s explore a little.” Fade was already wending his way into the shadows, going at a near run. This place probably seemed wonderful to him, as much as he’d loved finding that old book. Here, was the prospect of countless books.
There was no point in sitting by the front doors until the sun rose. Now that my eyes had gotten used to the shift, I realized there was more light here than in the tunnels. It trickled in through the windows, painting cross- paths of silver on the dusty floor. My feet left visible tracks, and that made me uneasy. Topside, it was too easy to track us.
I told myself I was worried for nothing and I let myself be awed by the grandeur of this place. It must have been quite a world, where books lived in a house finer than anything I’d ever seen built for a person. The plants had gotten in here too, breaking through the floor in wild profusion.
“It will take hours to go through this whole place,” Tegan said.
Fade grinned. “The sun will be up by then.”
We explored each level, going up winding stairs. My nerves coiled a little tighter with each one we climbed. I’d never been so high up. I could hear my heart thumping in my ears until I would have proven no help at all, if we’d encountered anything but small animals and nesting birds.
The high ceilings and endless rows of shelves created interesting shadows. We passed through vast open rooms filled with tables. A few locked doors barred our way. Whoever broke the front doors hadn’t carried the attack all the way to the heart of the library. Here, I only heard the flutter of wings and scrabble of tiny claws skittering on the floor. If I were so inclined, this would be a decent place to lay snares for meat.
I was tired by the time Fade pronounced the place safe. Sunlight struggled through the dirty glass. Most of the windows were broken, though this part of the ruins had avoided the worst of the damage. Time had certainly taken its toll.
“What happened here?” I asked aloud.
Tegan put her hand on my shoulder. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”
We made our way back down to the ground. I felt safer, but that wasn’t the reason I thought we should begin there. It made sense to me that we should start looking at the doors and fan outward. Otherwise, we’d cross paths and might wind up covering the same area more than once.
The stuff nearest the entrance had been exposed to weather, and it was useless. It had gotten wet and shriveled up and dried, leaving the words illegible. Many of the books we touched crumbled in our hands. My hopes sank.
Farther on, we found sealed doors, and past them, an enormous room full of tables. Some of them held books; others yellowing papers. In here, the sunlight was sufficient for us to start reading.
I picked up a faded yellow bundle of papers. There were images, right on the paper, beside the words, but none of them were of happy things. I saw a lady crying, and a fire rising up from a car. I’d only seen them rusted and motionless. This one seemed to have been drawn at the exact moment it hit another one, and they both had flames all over them.
“‘CDC reports vaccine failure,’” I read slowly. Most of the words were unfamiliar to me, and I sounded them out as best I could.
“Did you find something?” Fade asked, coming to my shoulder.
He rested his hand there as he leaned in, an easy touch like Stone would’ve bestowed, but coming from Fade, it meant something else. Not comfort or connection or a quiet way of saying he was there. I sensed the difference in every part of me.
“I’m not sure.” I handed him the paper.
There was no shame in admitting his reading skills exceeded mine. I knew my letters and I would never be hurt because I’d failed to understand a warning sign. What else did I need? He skimmed the words, using only his eyes and not his fingers, as I did to mark my place.
“I don’t understand all of it,” he said at last. “But it seems like the disease my dad had — and Tegan’s mom — it killed a lot of people. So they tried to make medicine for it, but it didn’t work, and things got worse.”
“Are we the only ones left then?” Tegan whispered. “The underground tribes, the gangers, and a few survivors like my mom and me?”
Fade shook his head angrily. “No. My dad said people went north. That it was better there.”
With a little twinge of pain, I wondered if those had just been stories, like the one he was reading to us — full of promise that could never be realized. Because I knew the question would hurt him, I didn’t ask it. Maybe he saw it in my eyes because his sharp features drew in on a frown.
Presently Tegan came over with a different paper. “What’s ‘evacuation’ mean?”
I shrugged as Fade took it and scanned the words. Maybe he could figure it out from reading the rest. Not for the first time, I admired his mind as much as I admired the way he fought.
