Chapter Four
Adrian
“You’ll hang me now. But you’ll be hanging a man who fed his family.”
— The Last Words of Daniel Fletcher, A Citizen of The Deck Executed for the Crime of Theft
Level Four. Agriculture.
I repeated the location to myself over and over like a prayer as I made my way toward the surprisingly advanced mechanized lifts across from the administrative building on the first level.
After observing for a moment to figure out how they worked, I climbed into one with at least ten other people while doing my best to ignore my increasingly rapid heart rate.
I waited impatiently as we stopped at level two, then three, tapping my foot against the metal floor to rid myself of some of the nervous energy coursing through me.
Finally, we arrived on level four. There was a soft, mechanical hiss as the lift doors opened in front of us and then I was pushing my way out and into a wide gray tunnel with a curved dome ceiling.
Those who filed off of the lifts with me went directly to the lockers built into the sides of the tunnel and began undressing, pulling on the standard issue olive green jumpsuits which must have indicated they worked in the agriculture sector.
The clothes they shed in favor of their uniforms were all the same modern dress as Sanctuary above.
That made sense, I supposed. After all, this was where all of our clothes had come from.
Ignoring the gravity of all I'd learned in the last hour alone, I weaved between them all to the enormous concrete doors at the end. I arrived just as someone pushed the big red button. An alarm blared briefly before the doors cracked open to reveal a sliver of synthetic sunlight. I blinked against the brightness as the woman beside me cast one look over my gray administrator’s clothing and straightened her posture before marching out into the fields beyond the doors.
I stood, dumbstruck, in the threshold for a moment.
I stared out at the flat, soil-rich land that spread so far into the distance I couldn’t see where it ended.
To my immediate left and right were enormous fields of wheat.
After that came rice and other grains. I walked forward with the crowd who'd gathered rakes and hoes and seeds and watering cans and were moving through the rows of crops to their assigned locations to begin their work for the day.
Some who were already out in the fields saw that the new shift had arrived.
They peeled off their gloves, wiped their sweaty brows, and started to head back for the tunnel.
I sidestepped them on my way further out into the fields.
The synthetic sun was blazing and the crops were swaying in a slight breeze that shouldn't be possible. It was easy to forget we were four levels underground here. There was only one explanation for it; magic.
I bumped into the watering can of a young man returning from the soybean fields and apologized, pulling my focus back to where I was going.
Grains gave way to vegetables which gave way to fruits and then herbs and spices until I stopped counting all the different variety of foods I was seeing.
I kept an eye out for Darius the whole way.
But I didn't see him until I finally reached the end of the row I'd been walking down and the only thing before me was an empty field being prepared for planting.
I saw him then, bent over his own row, hoe digging into the ground beneath his boots.
He leaned up after a moment, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck before wiping the sweat from his brow with a small towel he kept slung about his waist.
“Darius,” I said his name so quietly I was certain there wasn’t any way he could've possibly heard it.
But then his gaze snapped up to meet mine and his lips fell open in pure shock. Every muscle in his body froze as he uttered my name.
“Adrian?”
The disbelief in his tone was palpable, but I couldn’t help my smile as we stood apart, across that empty field, just looking at each other for the first time in over a year.
In moments, he'd dropped his hoe and was running toward me, leaping over fresh mounds of dirt with arms outstretched.
A hoarse laugh escaped me the instant he embraced me with a force I knew would have knocked me to the dirt before.
My enhanced strength kept me standing now as tears streaked down my cheeks and I used my senses to inhale his scent once more.
Though it was hindered somewhat by loose soil and sweat, it was still him.
Darius. My best friend. Darius who'd been Culled, who I'd never truly stopped mourning, who I'd never believed I would see again.
“You…” he started, taking as we separated. “You got Culled too? I don’t remember seeing—”
“No,” I answered, wiping the tears away as my shoulders shook. I heaved a breath and fought to regain control of myself.
He cocked his head to the side, brows furrowing as he approached.
“Then how are you here?” he asked.
“I did it,” I whispered in reply. It still hardly seemed real and speaking it aloud felt forbidden somehow. “I made it all the way to the tenth Trial.”
His surprise turned to complete shock as his gaze shot down to the bands around my arms, visible beneath the rolled up sleeves of my jumpsuit. After only a moment, however, that shock wore off. His anger was palpable as he met my gaze once more.
“You were betrayed,” he said then, understanding dawning upon him. “By who?”
“Darius—” I said with a sigh. This was not quite how I’d hoped our reunion would go.
“Who betrayed you, Adrian?”
He took a step forward, determined, but I only shook my head.
“I’ll tell you everything, Darius,” I told him. “I swear. But for now, can we just be two best friends who never thought they’d see each other again? I missed you.”
At that, his anger gave way to a tentative smile.
“I missed you too, Adrian.”
We stood still for a moment, just watching one another, then he turned and stalked back to the row he'd been working. He bent and picked up his tools before striding back over to me.
“I suppose I could take the rest of the day off,” he said and then turned back to face the man he'd been working with when I'd arrived. “Hey Ian! Think you can take over for me today?”
Ian looked up from his work, gaze traveling between Darius and I, and nodded curtly before returning to the field. Darius turned back, already heading for the tunnel I'd come from. I followed after him.
“Is it always so hot out here?” I asked, peering up at the synthetic sun high above us.
“It’s not so bad,” he replied with a shrug. “Roxy’s in mechanical; level 7. That’s just welding shit in the dark down there.”
“Roxy?”
He glanced my way with a genuine smile.
“I’ve got a lot to tell you too, Adrian,” he replied, and I couldn’t help but grin back at the genuine happiness on my friend’s face.
I followed him all the way back to the tunnel and waited while he stashed away his tools and changed out of his dirty work overalls.
I looked away then, crossing my arms over my chest and trying my best to ignore the furtive glances my gray uniform was attracting from the others going about their duties.
After a while, Darius tapped me on the shoulder to let me know he was done and I turned to find him in a tee shirt and jeans.
It was so much like the old Darius I couldn’t help the way the corners of my lips quirked up in a smile.
After everything that had happened, finding him here meant more than he could possibly know.
I followed him out of the agriculture tunnel and down a side tunnel on the way back to the lifts.
We walked through dimly lit darkness for some time before it broadened out and I found myself faced with another set of lifts at the end.
But instead of taking one, Darius turned right and we made our way down another set of halls until the lighting improved and doors began to appear on either side of us.
Darius stopped at one only a third of the way down the hall and pulled a key from his pocket.
“It’s not much,” he said, sliding the key into the lock and turning it with a click, “but it’s home.”
Home.
I stepped around Darius and into the small studio apartment.
He tossed his keys onto the island that separated the small kitchen from the living room area and shut the door behind him as I looked around.
Standard issue beige sheets, beige sofa, beige counters.
A refrigerator that hummed constantly and an oven that was only half the size of a normal one.
“Singles get the studios down here,” he explained.
He kicked off his shoes and strode toward the kitchen where he washed his hands, dirty from the fields, as I continued to look around.
“Families get moved into bigger spaces. They try to keep you on the same floor you work on but sometimes you just have to take whatever's available.”
I nodded, hardly hearing him as I stared at the lifelessness of his apartment.
No art from Sophie, no watch from his father, no trinkets from his mother or little aluminum sculptures from Harrison.
We’d been poor in the Third Ring but at least we'd been allowed our individuality. At least we’d had some sort of freedom.
“I bet you have a nice crib up there on level one though, huh?” he asked with a smile as he dried his hands and leaned against the threshold.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I answered, peeling my eyes away from all the beige to look at him. “I haven’t seen it.”
His smile faltered.
“Did you just get here?” he asked.
“Um, sort of,” I answered.
“Shit, Adrian,” he cursed, running a hand through his hair as he strode into the living room. “Sit down. Come on.”
I did as I was told, my legs moving of their own accord as I joined him on the couch. He waited until I was settled before speaking again. His voice was soft but his eyes bore into me.
“Tell me what happened,” he said.