One
Hannah
knelt beside her bed, curling her toes into the carpet. Her thick, honey brown
braid thumped against her back as she bent her head to pray. She wrapped one
hand around the locket that hung on a ribbon around her neck.
Father in Heaven, she thought, I
thank thee for blessing and preserving me. The door opened, and someone sighed. Hannah
kept her eyes closed. I thank thee for the refuge.
Something dropped onto the floor. Hannah
opened one eye and peeked out under her arm. A pair of work boots from the farm
lay at the foot of her roommate McKenzie’s bed, dirt sprinkled across the floor
in front of them. Hannah wrinkled her brow. Such a mess. Beside the work boots sat an old backpack,
full of something. She chewed on the inside of her lip and continued praying.
I
thank Thee for saving us from the invaders. McKenzie’s bed springs
groaned. Hannah frowned. No prayers? No good night? No nothing. Her chest
tightened with sadness. They used to pray together and lay giggling in the dark
for hours. McKenzie never giggled anymore.
Father, please bless
McKenzie. Please let her heart be softened toward me, so we can be friends
again. Help me to know how to help her. I’m so worried about her. A tear squeezed out onto
Hannah’s cheek and slipped toward her chin. She sniffed as quietly as she
could. Why did everything have to change like this? I want it all back
the way it used to be, she prayed. Then she closed her prayer and rose.
McKenzie had the covers pulled up to her chin, her back to Hannah.
McKenzie’s disheveled red hair lay across the pillow. She never went to bed
with her hair in such a state. Hannah chewed her lip again.
“Why do you have work boots in here?”
“I forgot to take them off when I left.” McKenzie didn’t bother to
turn around. “I’ll run them back in the morning. I’m too tired now.”
A lie. Hannah toed the boots and
watched more of the dried soil crumble onto the floor. A stupid lie at that. Nobody forgot to take her boots off. Who would want to clomp
through the halls in such heavy, restricting, dirty things? All McKenzie knew
how to do lately was lie and sneak around. A wall had sprung up between Hannah
and her best friend, a wall Hannah couldn’t penetrate no matter how hard she
tried. A wall named Jeremy.
Hannah turned off the light and climbed into bed. She entertained
the thought of marching straight down to Jeremy’s room and demanding he leave
McKenzie alone, let her have other relationships again. But no. He would laugh
at Hannah. She would stand there, arms folded, the picture of righteous indignation,
and Jeremy would laugh until his golden curls shook, mocking her.
It made her so angry she quivered right down to her toes just
thinking about it. She hated him. It filled her with guilt to think how she
hated him. It was no way to feel about a refuge brother. But she could see a
cruelty in him that the leaders never seemed to notice. McKenzie certainly
didn’t notice.
Hannah could hear her friend breathing in the darkness, not asleep
yet. She thought about asking her more questions. Why weren’t you at
group prayer? What’s in the backpack? She kept silent. McKenzie would just lie again
anyway.
Hannah rubbed her locket between her fingers. She had rubbed a
groove in the tarnished metal that just fit her thumb. Her mother had given her
the locket, she’d been told, on the day she was born, the last time her mother
saw her. The locket held a picture of Hannah’s parents, and one of her older
brother Caleb—all victims of the invaders. Strangers she had never met, but she
loved them all the same. They’d died for her.
McKenzie’s bed creaked as she stirred, and Hannah sat up. “Kenz?”
McKenzie stumbled toward the bathroom, and Hannah could hear her heaving into
the toilet. Hannah got up and stood in the doorway. “Are you all right? Do you
want me to get Sister Thayer?”
McKenzie shook her head. “I’ll be fine in a
minute.” She knelt on the bathroom floor with her hands across her stomach. She
groaned and vomited again, nothing but bile.
Hannah started forward but stopped, longing to put her arms around
McKenzie, but unsure how she would receive the gesture. Instead, Hannah said,
“Can I get you something from the kitchen? Toast?”
At last, McKenzie looked at her. Hannah could see the shadows in
her eyes, eyes that were filled with fear and confusion. McKenzie appeared to
consider, then nodded her head. “Toast. Sure. Thanks.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
Hannah walked slowly to calm her nerves, caught in a battle
between hope and despair. It’s just a piece of toast, she told herself. But it
was a chance to break down the wall a bit. They’d talk. Maybe McKenzie would
tell her what was really going on.
Pools of light from the nightlights lit the darkened hallway. One
of them shone on a picture of the Salt
Lake Temple.
Hannah paused in front of it. It used to be world famous, she’d been taught.
People came from everywhere to see it. She wished she could see it standing in
defiance of the destruction of the invaders. Had she been told that, or did she
just imagine it?
No one knew for sure what was outside. Hannah had been in the
refuge since she was only a few hours old. Even the adults didn’t know the
final outcome of the invasion. She grabbed her locket, then hurried toward the
kitchen for the toast.
The room wasn’t empty. She stopped when she
saw Derek and Paul there, eating bread and milk and laughing together. She
moved out of view next to the door, suddenly embarrassed to be out in her
nightgown. She’d made the dress herself from soft, undyed cotton, and had
embroidered pink rosebuds along the front. It was a pretty nightgown, but she
didn’t want to be seen in it, especially not by Paul.
Don’t be ridiculous, she chided herself. This
isn’t the time for silly infatuations. She squelched her fears, took a deep breath to
calm her fluttery nerves, and entered the kitchen with a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi, Hannah!” Derek’s smile nearly split his
face in two, pushing up his too-large glasses.
Hannah smiled tightly back at him. “Derek.” She turned to Paul. He
had sandy brown hair, freckles across his nose, and a dimple in his chin. She
smiled at him and turned quickly away. Get the toast, she told herself. There’s
no time for chatter.
She cut a slice off the loaf already sitting on the bread board.
Behind her, the boys murmured and jabbed each other. She ignored them. She put
the bread in a toaster and waited with her back turned.
“Hungry?” Derek said.
She pulled a face but didn’t turn around. “No, actually. It’s for
McKenzie. She’s sick.”
“Ah,” Derek said, drawing out the sound, using his know-it-all
voice.
“What?” Hannah asked over her shoulder.
Derek turned pink. “Nothing. Never mind.”
Hannah turned back to the toaster. She could hear the boys poking
at each other again and was suddenly anxious to leave, Paul or no Paul. She put
the toast on a small plate, and nearly ran into Derek as she turned to leave.
Startled, she stumbled back.
“Oh,” he said, his face red. “Er, I’m sorry.” He cleared his
throat.
Hannah took a deep breath and didn’t let her irritation show. She
didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“Um, I found some great duets in the music database,” he managed
to say. “I thought we might learn one together. It’s been a long time since we
played a duet.”
“Yes, it has. We’ll have to look at them sometime. But I’ve really
got to get back to McKenzie now.”
“Oh, sure.” Derek stepped back, seeming dismayed. “Good night.”
“Good night.” She turned and left, her face burning. Paul hadn’t
said two words to her. Maybe she could talk to McKenzie about it. Maybe.
In and out of the shadows, she moved through the deserted hallway.
Silence swept around her, the silence of safety and calm. She opened the door
to her room. Inside, all was dark. Hannah turned the lights on dim.
The room was empty, the boots and backpack gone. “Kenz!” she
shouted. No answer. She dropped the toast. It landed with a dull thud on the
carpet, but she ignored the mess and ran through the hallway again, driven by a
nagging fear. Boots. A backpack.
Soon she was out of the living area, and the halls had no
nightlights. She moved as quickly as she could in the dark, her hands
outstretched in front of her. She slammed her hip against an end table and
recoiled back, slumping down to the floor, where she sniffed back tears.
A light came on further down the hallway. She used the offending
end table to hoist herself up. “McKenzie?” she asked, hopeful.
The light right above her came on, and she blinked in the sudden
brightness.
“Hannah?” Derek said. “Hey, I was just printing out the music I
was telling—what’s wrong?” He set down the music and put his hand on her
shoulder. “You’re crying.” His voice warmed with concern.
“It’s McKenzie, I think.” Hannah shook her head. It sounded so
crazy. “I think she’s trying to get outside.”
Derek didn’t laugh at her. He didn’t tell her she was crazy. But
of course, he never did anything like that.
“Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. She never talks to me anymore. She had a pair of
work boots and a backpack.”
“You should go get one of the leaders,” he said.
“No.” Hannah bit her lip. “She won’t listen to any of the leaders.
But she’ll listen to me. She has to.” She felt her voice rise, so she took a
deep breath. “McKenzie is my best friend,” she finished quietly.
Derek let his hand drop from Hannah’s
shoulder as if he’d just remembered it was there. “I’ll help you find her.”
They set off together down the hall, hurrying past the gardens and
farm, past the waste reclamation pools and the big energy-storage cells, down
to the last branch off the corridor to the unused hallway. The hallway without
any pictures on the walls or end tables festooned with floral arrangements.
“Oh, no.”
A flood light at the end of the hallway illuminated McKenzie and
Jeremy in front of the tall silver doors of the elevator. Hannah could feel her
heart slamming in her chest. Jeremy leafed through a stack of keys, slipping
each one into the slot in the wall in turn.
He must have stolen them
from Brother Asay or Bishop Carrier, she thought, shocked.
McKenzie fidgeted beside Jeremy. She wore the work boots and had
the backpack slung across one shoulder.
“McKenzie?” Hannah said.
McKenzie and Jeremy both turned. “Hannah!” McKenzie’s pale face
contrasted sharply with her red hair. Her eyes were wide with what looked like
fear and apprehension.
“Don’t do this,” Hannah pled. “It’s dangerous.”
Like a trapped animal, McKenzie looked at Jeremy and then back at
Hannah. Jeremy only smirked.
“The invaders aren’t just some fairy tale,” Derek said. “You’ll
put us all in danger if you do this.”
Jeremy’s face reddened. “Why don’t you go run for some leaders,
encyclopedia boy? I’ll bet Mr. Smarty already knows which one is the right
key.”
Hannah found herself angry on Derek’s behalf, but he stayed calm.
“As a matter of fact I do,” he said.
Jeremy scowled and continued sliding keys into the slot.
Hannah stepped forward and touched McKenzie’s arm. “Why are you doing
this?”
Her friend smoothed her tangled hair and tried to smile her old,
easy smile. “Don’t worry so much. It’s just for fun.” But her smile was forced,
her eyes uncertain.
“Yeah,” Jeremy said. “We’ll come right back.”
Another lie. Hannah knew it was a lie. She could see it on their
faces, feel it in the tension that hung between them. This wasn’t just one of
McKenzie’s crazy schemes. Hannah’s throat tightened. Some unseen hand had
reached through the darkness to snatch her best friend away from her, to rip
through the comfort and security of her life. She couldn’t just stand by and
let it happen. “Then I’ll come too,” she said impulsively.
“Hannah!” McKenzie and Derek both spoke at once.
Jeremy laughed. Deep dimples indented his cheeks.
Hannah’s face flushed, but she didn’t back down. “I’m going to
make sure you come back. I am your best friend, after all.” She put her hands
on her hips.
McKenzie opened her mouth, but shut it again without speaking.
“No,” Derek said. “No one’s going. It’s too dangerous. For
everyone in the refuge. Don’t you understand? We can’t run the risk of being
discovered.”
Jeremy snorted. “Dangerous? How could you know that? No one knows
what’s out there.”
“The leaders know. They were there, remember?”
Hannah held her breath, watching the boys
glare at each other. Jeremy with his golden curls and ice blue eyes, gripping
his stolen keys. Derek with his dark hair, his too-big glasses, his wide nose
flared. He kept his hands on his hips.
“Nobody’s been out there for eighteen years,” Jeremy said. “The
leaders don’t know anything. But I intend to find out what’s going on out
there.” He turned around and crammed another card into the slot. The elevator
doors slid silently, ominously open. Hannah’s heart almost stopped. Jeremy
crowed in triumph. “You see? How’re you going to stop us now, Derek?” He
swaggered into the elevator. “Come on, McKenzie.”
McKenzie had her hand over her mouth. Hannah grabbed her arm. “You
don’t have to do this,” she said. “Please stay here.”
“McKenzie!” Jeremy barked.
She laid her hand on Hannah’s. “Goodbye,” she said, then stepped
inside with Jeremy.
Hannah stood frozen. Please help me to help her, she
had prayed. To go with McKenzie seemed like the only option—to go and bring her
back. Swallowing her fear, Hannah followed them onto the elevator and turned to
Derek.
He stood there in his loose cotton pajamas in front of the
elevator. His brown eyes flashed, and he clenched his fists. Hannah had never
seen him look so angry.
“Well, go get the leaders, angel boy,” Jeremy said. “We’ll already
be gone.”
Derek’s face went red, but he didn’t look at Jeremy. He caught
Hannah’s eyes instead, and she was taken back by the fire she saw there. The
door began to close, blocking him from her view. Her heart leaped into her
throat. Derek’s hand reached out to stop the door, and in two angry strides, he
was on the elevator. “I suppose someone has to keep you fools alive.”
Jeremy snorted. “Sure. Suit yourself.”
For a moment, Hannah wished it was Paul with them, but that
thought passed as quickly as it came. The doors slid shut, and the long-unused
machinery groaned into life, hoisting them up.
Hannah rubbed her locket for courage. Her heart fluttered in her
throat, but a measure of calm she didn’t understand asserted itself against the
fear.
The elevator was small, with bare, metal walls. A sign hung near
the doors: “Operate the elevator only with direct permission from the First
Presidency or in extreme emergency. No children allowed in the elevator.” I’m
sorry, Heavenly Father, Hannah thought.
Beside her, Derek ran his fingers through his hair. “This is a
very bad idea.”
“Shut up!” Jeremy said. “No one asked you to come anyway.”
A tense silence fell. Jeremy slid his arm around McKenzie’s waist
and pulled her close to him. Hannah wanted to scream at him to let her go, but
she held her tongue. McKenzie leaned her head on his shoulder and kept her eyes
closed. Hannah glanced at Derek, who rolled his eyes at them and mouthed,
“Stupid kids.”
Hannah felt her stomach drop as the elevator stopped. The doors
opened, revealing a solid wall of light-colored stone. Hannah laughed in
relief. “We can’t get out.” She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her
face. “We can’t get out.”
Jeremy swore, then moved away from McKenzie so quickly she stumbled.
Hannah reached out to steady her.
Jeremy pounded on the wall of stone and swore again. “Did you know
about this?” he asked Derek.
Derek shook his head, his face expressionless. “I know the inside
of the refuge, not the outside.”
“There must be a way to open it.”
“Let’s go back,” Hannah said, and Derek nodded.
“No.” Jeremy ran his hands over the wall.
Hannah turned to McKenzie. “Tell him to stop. We should go back.”
But McKenzie only shook her head. “I can’t go back.” Her voice was
desperate. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because we came to see the outside,” Jeremy
said, “and we’re going to see it. We’re not going back, McKenzie.”
“We’re not going back,” McKenzie repeated.
Hannah ground her teeth in frustration.
Derek leaned against the back wall. “I think it’s a moot point
anyway. You’re never going to get through that.”
“Oh, no?” Jeremy turned around, smiling, and stuck the key into a
crack. The stone moved silently upward, and cold night air swept into the
elevator. Hannah shivered through her thin nightgown and coughed.
The air smelled different—wild and sharp. The light from the
elevator illuminated a square of dirt and rocks, but Hannah could see nothing
in the darkness beyond that. No sounds broke the stillness. She could see no
invaders waiting to snatch them.
Jeremy raced out with a whoop, pulling McKenzie behind him.
Hannah cringed at the noise. She looked at Derek, who was
scowling.
“Why doesn’t he shut up?” he whispered.
Hannah hesitated, squared her shoulders, and followed. Derek
walked behind her. They were in a shallow cave. The rocks bit at her bare feet,
and she shivered again.
“Night,” Derek said. “I guess it makes sense. They’d try to keep
our circadian rhythms as close to normal as possible.” He whispered, but still
his voice rang against the walls of the cave.
It was a typical Derek-like comment. Hannah didn’t have any idea
what he was talking about, but she murmured a response. His rambling bits of
useless knowledge were almost comforting out here in the night. Neither of them
ventured beyond the light from the elevator doors. Hannah strained to see
Jeremy and McKenzie in the darkness beyond the mouth of the cave.
“McKenzie?” Hannah called quietly.
“You’ve got to come and see this, ” McKenzie called back. “There’s
nothing to be afraid of.”
Hannah looked up at Derek. He shrugged. “I’m coming.” She made her
way out into the darkness. Outside. A thousand stars cast across the black sky
greeted her, took her breath away.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” McKenzie said.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Hannah
whispered.
“It’s amazing,” Derek spoke behind her. His voice seemed small,
swallowed up in the vastness. “I can’t believe I’m really seeing this. Look.
There’s Orion, and Taurus and the Pleiades. And over there is Cassiopeia and
the Big Dipper. Do you see them?”
She didn’t. She could find no order in the riot of the heavens.
The stars extended forever outward into gaping emptiness. The wind swirled
around her, ruffling her hair and tugging at her nightgown. The world was so
big, so endless. She wrapped her arms around herself to block out the cold.
“Let’s go back.”
“Back?” Jeremy said too loudly, his voice cutting through the
reverence of the stars. “After two minutes? You notice there aren’t any
bogeymen out here. We’re free, kids.” He laughed. “Free!”
Derek spoke. “She’s right. We have to go back.” Hannah thought he
sounded a little wistful. “We have no idea what’s out here. It’s pitch black,
for heaven’s sake.”
“I’m not afraid,” Jeremy said. “I’m not going back.”
“Then just give me the elevator key,” Derek said. “You can do what
you want.”
Hannah turned away from their argument to look back at the cave.
The light had disappeared. The door had shut without a sound as they watched
the stars. It frightened her, to be cut off from the refuge like that. She
turned around to demand the key, but a shriek from McKenzie cut her short. She
followed her friend’s shaking finger up to where a dark object blotted out the
stars as it moved across the sky.
“What is it?” McKenzie whispered.
No one answered. The object hovered in the sky, and Hannah could
hear the quiet hum of a motor.
“Okay,” Jeremy said. “Let’s go back.”
Hannah ignored the pain on her bare feet as she ran back into the
cave. They all ran, but there was no trace of a door. Hannah ran her hands over
the cold, rough stone, but could find no place for the key to fit, and the hum
of the flying machine outside grew ever closer.
TWO
Bishop
Joey Carrier liked to set his house in order before he went to bed. He sat
behind the desk in his office, hands folded, chin resting on his thumbs, and
studied the monitor screens. They were small, nothing like the huge monitoring
equipment in the basement that Adam Asay used. But these were enough for a
nightly check to make sure all was well.
He ran through all the systems. Everything checked out just fine.
He sighed. If only he were doing so well. As if on cue, the pain in his leg
intensified. Cancer. They had no way of treating that. And now Dr. Miller
insisted that amputation was his only hope. Joey gritted his teeth against the
pain. He had a whole refuge to maintain. He couldn’t waste time worrying about
himself.
He was so used to just passing over the warning light on the
elevator’s monitor that he almost missed it. But there it was, blinking bright
red: “Elevator activated.” He frowned. That had to be a mistake—a false alarm.
No one would use the elevator. He stood, deciding to go check the elevator
himself, but the pain brought him back to his chair with a groan. Tears crowded
his eyes, and his throat tightened with frustration. Soon he’d be no use to
anyone at all. He ran his hand over his bald head and took a deep breath. Adam
could check the elevator, find out the problem. Joey reached for the phone.
“Brother Asay here.” He sounded sleepy.
“Adam. It’s me.”
“What can I do for you, Bishop?”
“The elevator warning light’s gone off. Can you pop over and check
on that for me?” He tried to keep the rising tide of worry out of his voice,
but he couldn’t.
“The elevator? That shouldn’t happen. Hold on just a minute.”
Joey could hear clattering, muffled voices.
“Bishop.” Adam’s voice was taut. “Someone’s stolen my keys.”
Joey nearly choked on the panic that filled his throat. He could
remember all too clearly what they had fled from all those years ago. The
bombs, the fire, the blood. His children dead and his little granddaughter
stolen away.
If any of their precious children had gone out there now . . .
“Let’s get an emergency head count. Call the other group leaders
and have them count their kids. I want you all in my office in five minutes.”
“All right, Bishop,” Adam said quietly.
Joey hung up and buried his head in his hands. This wasn’t just an
outbreak of measles or a broken reclamation tank. He opened his desk drawer and
reached for his own keys. Whoever was out there was probably still in the cave.
It would be a simple matter to open the doors and retrieve them again.
Don’t open the
doors.
Joey sucked in his breath. The impression was overwhelming. But
my kids . . .
Don’t open the
doors.
He balled his hand into a fist on top of his desk. Dear
God. The pain
in his heart almost rivaled the pain in his leg. Thy will be done.
*****
Derek slapped his hand against the stone wall and hung his head.
He chastised himself for letting Jeremy taunt him into leaving the refuge. The
whir of the flying machine outside echoed through the cave. Derek pressed his
hand harder against the rock.
Hannah stood beside him, whispering through the dark. “The leaders
will come for us, won’t they?” Her voice shook.
She wanted reassurance Derek couldn’t give her. Oh, he longed to
put his arms around her, to comfort and protect her, but he was smart enough to
know she didn’t want that from him. And he couldn’t tell her everything would
be fine when he knew it wouldn’t. Without answering her, he walked away and
crouched at the cave’s entrance.
“Yeah,” Jeremy piped up. “We’ll just hide in here until they do.”
Idiot. “Be
quiet,” Derek growled back at him. If the leaders opened the doors now, the
refuge would be exposed. He could see the machine out there, hanging in the
sky, a dark orb barely distinguishable from the night. No one came out of it,
though. Probably a probe, he
thought.
He found himself curious about how it worked. Could it see them
somehow? Maybe it had heat or light sensors. Would it shoot them the moment
they left the cave? Eventually someone would come to investigate, Derek
decided. They needed to get away from the refuge before they were discovered.
Of that he was certain. But how could he convince the others? He listened to
Jeremy wrangle McKenzie into his arms in the corner. Jeremy would never listen
to him. This whole stupid mess was Jeremy’s fault. But no, Derek chided
himself, that wasn’t fair. He’d gotten on the elevator of his own free will.
“Derek?”
He started at the noise. He hadn’t heard Hannah approach.
“I don’t think we should stay here. I don’t feel good about it,”
she said softly.
“No, neither do I.” He stood up, and the rocks bit painfully into
his feet again. The cold night stung him, and the reality of their situation
settled like a lump in his stomach.
“I’m so scared.” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Derek. I should
have listened to you in the first place.”
Oh,
Hannah, he thought. Dear,
beautiful, kind-hearted Hannah. He would have done anything to get her out
of this if he could. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You were trying to help
McKenzie, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Hannah continued to rub her locket. Derek looked outside, beyond
the probe, toward the stars. “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he said.
“Neither of us has shoes or clothes. I don’t think it’s cold enough for
frostbite, but I don’t know for sure. I have no idea what we’ll eat. There’s
still probably eight hours before daylight. This won’t be easy.”
Hannah laid her hand on his arm, and the touch warmed him. “No,”
she said. “It won’t. McKenzie is sick.” She fell silent, and he noted with
satisfaction that she did not drop her hand from his arm.
“What are you guys whining about over there?” Jeremy’s voice
echoed from the back of the cave.
Derek didn’t bother to quiet him again. They had to get away from
here!
“We can’t stay,” he said. “The risk to the refuge is too great. We
have to leave, and the sooner the better.”
“Are you crazy?” Jeremy said. “Out there where that—that thing can
get us?”
Derek could hear the first trace of fear in Jeremy’s voice. Good.
About time he realizes this isn’t just a game. “It’s going to get us in
here if you don’t keep your voice down,” Derek said quietly.
Jeremy stood. Though Derek couldn’t see his face, he could see the
anger in his bearing, in the fists clenched at his sides. It reminded Derek of
the time he’d stopped Jeremy from beating up Paul. Jeremy had stood just that
same way then.
Derek stood with his feet apart, his hands balled on his hips. I
should have hit him then, and I should just hit him now. But no. That wouldn’t
accomplish anything. Instead he asked, “McKenzie, will you be all right?”
“She’s just fine!” Jeremy said. “We’re not going anywhere.”
McKenzie pulled herself up. “I’m okay.”
“Kenz,” Jeremy said. “We’re not leaving.”
“No one’s coming for us,” Derek said. “Not unless they’re all
stupid. Unless you’d like them to fling open the doors and give the invaders
access to everyone.”
Jeremy turned around and ran his hands along the back wall. Derek
waited in silence. McKenzie whispered something in his ear. Jeremy pounded a
fist against the wall and grumbled under his breath.
“Let’s go then,” Jeremy said, pushing past Derek.
“Wait.” Derek turned to face him. Inches apart, they stared each
other down through the darkness. Derek could hear Jeremy’s ragged, angry
breathing.
“What?”
“Give Hannah your boots,” Derek said.
Jeremy laughed once. “No. If you two were stupid enough to come
out here without any, then suffer.” He walked toward the entrance again, but
McKenzie grabbed his arm.
“Jeremy,” she said pointedly.
He jerked his arm away. “I’m not giving up my boots. That’s just
their tough luck.”
“I have a thought,” Hannah said. “What if you
each gave up one boot? Then each of us would at least have one.”
McKenzie squatted immediately and took off
one of her boots for Hannah. Jeremy glared down at her, then at Derek, and back
again. “All right,” he grumbled. He took off a boot and tossed it in Derek’s
direction. “There. Satisfied?”
Derek bent down to put it on. His fingers, stiff from the chill,
fumbled over the laces. His throat tightened. What right had Jeremy to be
angry?
This would never do. They were stuck out here together
indefinitely, maybe for the rest of their lives, and resentment and anger would
only hurt their chances of survival. He finished tying on the boot and stood,
clearing his throat.
“Thank you, Jeremy,” he said. “I really appreciate it.” He tried
to sound humble. Jeremy didn’t answer. That was probably as a good a sign as
any.
The four of them gathered at the cave’s entrance and stopped. The
probe still hovered. None of them spoke. Jeremy cleared his throat.
Derek wanted to say something encouraging, but could think of
nothing that didn’t sound stupid. “Hold hands,” he whispered, “so we don’t get separated
out there. And try to be as quiet as possible.” Hannah slipped her hand into
his, and he could feel her trembling. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, and
she squeezed back. “Ready?” he said, his mouth gone dry with fear. He closed
his eyes, offered a silent prayer, and, gathering all his reserves of courage
and faith, he led them out into the night.