Chapter 16
My eyes worked to adjust to the light as I followed the rest of the unit.
I had been surrounded by darkness for so long that I had forgotten light still existed in the world—a world I hadn’t seen in almost six years.
Six years of tunnels, stone on every side, completely enclosing me.
I no longer found the constant presence of a ceiling suffocating.
It felt normal. This, the vastness, didn’t.
Nor did it look like the earth I had known.
The color of the suits made sense. The world I remembered had blue skies, green grass, and trees.
There had been color. Life. It was all gone.
The war had stripped the surface of everything I had known.
The terrain reflected the carnage, like the very essence of the earth mourned the destruction of humanity. Everything was gray.
Endless gray skies filled with thick clouds that blocked out the rising sun.
Everything lay dead. Nothing moved, nothing lived.
Only the buildings remained; dilapidated, crumbling in on themselves from years of neglect.
Some carried scars from the battles that had waged over Haven after the door closed for good, trapping those who hesitated too long here.
I couldn’t bear to think how many buildings had become tombs.
“You good, Sasha? It’s just us,” Levi said into my helmet. I tore my gaze from the marred surface, tilting my head to the sky. The dark clouds felt never-ending.
“Has it always felt this big?” I whispered.
“When’s the last time you saw above?” Levi asked as the rest of the unit ventured farther ahead.
“Almost six years. I hadn’t even seen the guard shack since the day I entered. I’ve always avoided it.”
Levi switched us back to the group channel, cutting off what Isla said to the others. “We need a minute.”
“Everything okay?” Tristian asked.
Boots shifted next to me. “Everything’s good,” Levi said without further explanation, and the other voices disappeared.
“The Ward doesn’t visit above ever?” Levi asked.
“No. Even if we did, I wouldn’t. I didn’t—I was content never seeing the surface again.”
“Why?” Levi asked. I pulled my stare from the sky.
Maybe it was the helmet blocking his face, shielding my vulnerability.
Perhaps the infinite sky above weighed too heavily on my walls.
A confession escaped me. “I didn’t see the point of knowing the world without my family.
For me, it died with them.” I swallowed against what else had died, at what had made space for the horribleness that dwelled in me.
A hissing filled the air, followed by a resounding thud as the doors to Haven sealed closed behind us, locking us out. I couldn’t breathe. There were dents all along the steel doors, the only memory of those who had been too late—a battered tombstone.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Levi asked. The others congregated a ways from us, bodies shifting as they looked between one another and the destroyed surface.
“No, not now.”
“All right. You ready?” I swallowed, nodding, not trusting my voice. Levi said to the group, “We’re ready.”
“Unit Seven, move out,” Tristian called.
I followed behind the unit, my stare fixed forward. A part of me wanted to look back, but I didn’t know what ghost would be waiting at those gates if I did. So I followed as conversations broke out. I didn’t join in; words were too far away for me.
The suit pressed in on me, trapping everything in until it all began seeping out, flooding the inside of the suit until I was drowning in memories.
Unseen tears flowed down my face under my helmet for the people I had shared a name with and for every desperate mark upon those doors. With no witnesses and no way to wipe them away, I let them fall.
The buildings slowly started to dwindle, becoming fewer and fewer, as did my tears.
On the very outskirts of the town, the smallest suited body stopped.
Rumi gazed at the building along the edge.
It was unremarkable, squat, several stories tall.
The door had been knocked in, the windows blown out, her helmeted face tilted, her hand over her heart.
“We can afford ten minutes if you need to check,” Tristian said over the communication system.
“No, it’s always empty. We carry on,” Rumi told him.
Patrick approached her, his arm wrapping around her.
The others walked past the two. I wondered if words passed between them or if hidden tears fell as well.
Rumi bowed, placing a small rock next to the door.
There was a line of rocks. Had she placed one every time she walked by?
I didn’t know what the building meant to her or why Rumi would want to go in.
The way she looked at that window made something inside me ache.
I fiddled with the buttons while we walked, avoiding the SOS button until I figured out how to display the time on my shield.
Without the bells, time felt endless as we journeyed across the gray surface, following the sun’s procession across the sky rather than reacting to sounds.
We only stopped to allow everyone to relieve themselves before carrying on.
The unit passed the time chatting, sometimes falling into a comfortable silence.
I tuned it out for the most part, unable to focus, my tears long dried.
I grappled with my beast, which seemed to chase its tail, intent on devouring itself.
A world existed above Haven. The war had destroyed much of it, altering it, perhaps permanently—a barren gray terrain, but it prevailed.
For some reason, I couldn’t accept that the world continued when mine had ended after my sister died.
Hidden underground, I had convinced myself everything I had once known had died too.
It hadn’t.
The earth kept going. Trying. The perseverance should invigorate me, motivate me to try harder. Somehow, I had the audacity to be angry, angry that I seemed to be the only one unable to move on, to let go.
The sun continued to travel across the sky, as did my thoughts. My skin crawled as I became desperate for anything to distract me. I didn’t linger on why my gaze kept finding the tallest, broadest suit leading our pack.
“Incoming.” Patrick’s voice filled my helmet. I shook my head, looking away from Tristian’s suited form. Everyone grew alert as figures in gray suits moved ahead of us.
“Looks like Unit Twelve,” Tristian called out, positioning himself in front of his unit. Levi began moving forward as well but stopped abruptly, looking at me. He was Tristian’s second, even if he wasn’t Tristian’s partner anymore. I hit the button for partner communication.
“Go,” I told him. He moved forward, stopping at Tristian’s left.
“Definitely Unit Twelve,” Damien added as Tristian approached the person in front of the group. They grasped hands and hit a series of buttons.
“How do you know that, Buddy?” Isla taunted. The rest of the unit relaxed.
The radio went staticky, popping, before a new voice I didn’t recognize filled my helmet. The voice was gruff, serious. He was shorter than Tristian, stocky. Suited bodies moved around behind him.
“Kaleo’s unit left Outpost Two a mess. Took us twice as long to restock it. It’s set for you now,” the voice told us.
“Thanks, Henderson,” Tristian answered.
“Of course. I wish Burdon had put us on the third outpost. Kaleo won’t give you good information,” Henderson said with an undertone of disgust.
“Your notes from your last mission were thorough. They should be enough to give us a start.”
“Even so, the more information, the better,” Henderson told Tristian. “How’s your new unit member doing?”
“She’s carrying her own.”
“I’d like a word when you return. There’s much to discuss about the medic and Kaleo.
Things are getting out of hand. We should have her reconsider the restock duty.
We have more suits. Put Ten on restock so we can band together.
You know her best. We need a plan, a real one. This isn’t a game. Never was.”
“Understood, Henderson. I’ll find you when I return. Thanks for everything out there.”
The commander of Unit Twelve motioned for his unit to move out. “Good luck, Unit Seven.”
They passed us, and Henderson murmured, “Cruz.”
“Henderson,” Damien said from my left. Even with the helmet, I could envision the smirk that would grace Damien’s smug face from receiving the unit commander’s open recognition.
The communications went staticky as Unit Twelve walked back toward Haven. When they came back, only Unit Seven’s voices remained.
“I think you made Henderson blush, Buddy,” Patrick jeered through a laugh.
Damien shrugged, his gear shifting. “What can I say? I’m good.”
“Oh, you like him,” Isla exclaimed, practically bouncing.
Damien shook his head. “I like a challenge.”
“No, you like him. Your face shield doesn’t fool me. You’re smiling ear to ear right now,” Isla teased. Damien waved her off.
“Are you in love?” Patrick mocked, and a chorus of laughter followed.
“Is that your question?” Damien asked.
Patrick stumbled. “What, no. Definitely not.”
Levi chuckled deeply into my helmet.
“We play a game on missions,” Damien informed me, his helmet pointed in my direction.
“You play games,” Patrick corrected.
“We play a game,” Damien restated. “It’s kind of like twenty questions, but different. On a mission, every member is allotted one question. Everyone has to answer the question honestly. If you don’t want to answer it, you can skip the question, but you take the second-night watch.”
“What if everyone refuses to answer?” I asked.
“Then you know Eagle asked a question,” Isla said.
“Eagle?”
“Rumi’s call sign,” Isla informed me. “We all have call signs for missions. Rumi’s Eagle.”
“ ’Cause she sees everything,” Damien muttered. “And she has eagle eyes. She’s a great shot. Not like you, though.”
Isla continued, “Mine’s Sunshine. Damien’s Buddy.”
Damien did a little bow.