Edge of Extinction. Laura Martin
looked when I’d sketched it in my journal. Tunnels and small rooms made up most of the structure, but in the centre of North Compound was the assembly hall. A small stage stood at one end of the room, but instead of chairs, the floor sloped upwards so that the citizens could stand and still see the platform. Shawn and I made it to the assembly doorway just as the last and final bell rang out throughout the compound. The marine at the door, Sergeant Novak, gave us a disapproving look, but I saw that he checked us in as present on his port. We flashed him grateful smiles and slipped inside to stand at the back of the crowd.
“If that had been Kennedy,” Shawn whispered, “we would have had work detail for a month.”
I nodded, my mind still preoccupied with my dad’s note. Everyone fell silent as the microphone at the front crackled and screeched.
The five compound council members filed on to the podium and sat down on the low metal bench. Shawn’s aunt was one of three women on the council, and I saw her scanning the crowd. She smiled when she saw Shawn, but that smile slipped a little when she spotted me standing next to him. Council member Wilkins, a short, compact man with greying hair and a wide, soft face, stood up and walked to the microphone, his port screen in hand.
“Good morning, citizens,” he said.
Everyone chorused back their own ‘good morning’ and he smiled at us like we were a pet that had just performed a trick perfectly. “We have gathered you all together to pass on the latest news from our esteemed Noah.” I watched him talk, wishing I was anywhere else. This Noah was just like the other three Noahs that had come before him, and at that moment, I couldn’t have cared less what he wanted us to know. Besides, all the information he was going to tell us had been uploaded to Shawn’s port a few days ago. If there had been anything important, he would have told me.
I tuned back in to council member Wilkins as he smiled broadly in my direction.
“Our Noah believes that it is his duty to ensure our safety no matter what the cost or inconvenience. As such, he is requiring that all four compounds begin the process of laying up extra supplies in the coming months.” This news was met by a nervous murmur. “No need to be alarmed. We have had supply shortages in the past when the plane hasn’t been able to make it, and our Noah believes it’s vital to our continued survival for each of the compounds to be capable of functioning independently for periods lasting up to a year.” The decree made sense. I could still remember a few winters ago when the supply plane had missed two drops in a row. We’d lost half our crop because the key valve replacement we’d needed for the watering system hadn’t been delivered, and everyone had developed a lean look as we shared and conserved what little we had until the plane finally made it through.
“Here at North, we plan to do our part to help in this endeavour. As we are the primary producers of grow lights, our Noah has asked that we step up production. He has given us two months to complete this task. I am sure that none of our loyal citizens will mind putting in the extra hours in support of mankind’s continued survival.” This was met with more muttering, but no one protested. No one ever did. If the Noah said it, it was law.
I glanced over at Shawn to see his reaction to this, but he was studiously ignoring me. It made me feel uneasy. Shawn never ignored me, and he had an almost guilty look on his face. I made a note to pin him to a tunnel wall and force the rest of the story out of him as soon as this meeting was over. I wasn’t done being mad at him for not showing me my dad’s note as soon as he’d found it, but I understood why he hadn’t. The compound was all he knew or ever wanted to know. Going topside was almost equal to suicide in his book. He’d been trying to protect me, just like he’d done so long ago on my first night in the Guardian Wing.
I thought again about the note. Despite Shawn’s arguments against it, I hadn’t given up on the idea that my dad was at Lake Michigan. Maybe he’d made it there but something had happened to keep him from coming back for me. At the very least, someone there would know what had happened to him. Answers, I thought, almost giddily. I was finally going to get my answers.
“Our Noah also has concerns for our safety,” Wilkins went on. “He believes that compound entrance hatches present a weakness.” My head snapped up, and for the first time, I really paid attention to what he was saying, feeling uneasy. “In order to ensure our compound’s continued safety, we are going to be installing lock mechanisms on all compound exit hatches. General Kennedy assures me that this can be accomplished within the next day or so.” Icy dread washed over me, and I turned tortured eyes to Shawn. He gazed down at his feet, guilt written all over his features. He had known this was happening. It was why he’d given me my dad’s note instead of throwing it away. He knew that I wouldn’t be able to leave anyway. A cold sense of betrayal slid down my spine as I stared at my friend.
“This brings our assembly to a close,” Wilkins said. “Those of you involved in grow light production, please remain so we can discuss your altered work schedules.”
I followed Shawn and the rest of the crowd out of the assembly hall and into the tunnels.
I knew my face was a thundercloud, but I didn’t care. Shawn Reilly was going to get a piece of my mind, and possibly a black eye. They were locking the compound entrances. I hadn’t even had time to wrap my head around this mission my dad had given me, let alone collect supplies I needed. I was out of time before I’d even begun. If I wanted to leave the compound, I should have done it a year ago. Now I might be trapped. I grabbed Shawn’s arm to pull him down a side tunnel. From the resigned look on his face, he knew he was in for it.
“Shawn.” A voice rang out through the tunnels, and we both turned to see Shawn’s aunt weaving her way through the crowd. She had white-blonde hair like Shawn’s, pulled back in a neat bun at the base of her neck. Her compound uniform was perfectly pressed, and she glanced at my frizzy hair and rumpled appearance with disapproval.
She turned to Shawn. “I need your help for a moment.”
“Is everything OK?” Shawn asked.
“Fine,” she smiled. “One of the microphones is malfunctioning and I volunteered you to take a look at it. I’ve already alerted your teachers, so don’t worry about being late.” I shot Shawn a look that made it clear that we were going to be having a very serious discussion in the near future before he turned and followed his aunt back through the crowd.
I whirled and strode down the south tunnel towards school. I wanted to skip it with every fibre of my being, but my absence would be investigated and a work detail handed out as punishment. I would get through the day, I told myself, feeling my resolve solidify, then I would get ready to leave. If I had less than twenty-four hours to prepare myself, then I would just have to make it work. I was still going to make a run for it, taking my chances that the locks hadn’t been installed yet. I sat down in my first class of the day and swallowed hard. I was going topside.
Shawn’s words echoed in my head: no one survives topside.
I spent the first few minutes of class thinking up the many ways I was going to make Shawn pay for what he’d done, but he never showed. By fourth period, I’d given up, assuming his aunt had let him take the rest of the day off for being so helpful. She had the power to do that. It wasn’t until I was walking home from school alone that I realised that I might never see him again. I was still angry enough that the thought didn’t bother me.
When I got back to my room, I shoved my chair under the doorknob and climbed on to my bed to empty out my hiding spot. I spread my meagre belongings out on my bed. There wasn’t much. The flashlight Sean had made me sat forlornly next to my journal, scan plug and my set of lock picks. I carefully placed each item into my backpack. Opening my journal, I flipped to one of the damaged pages at the back. I had to write small and squish my words around the hole, but I made a list of supplies I would need to survive topside. It was a long list and the only place to get everything on it was the marines’ barracks. My stomach flopped sickeningly at the thought. Turning a few pages, I found my meticulous accounting of the marines’ schedule. I’d written it down ages ago when I first started my runs to the maildrop.
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