And so I saw the sun come up completely for the first time, rising over the water until it shone with a reflected light that arrowed toward me. I didn’t know how long we stood there, rapt, but eventually Fade tugged on my hand. I hadn’t even realized he was holding it. His fingers were strong and sure. Tegan looked dazed; perhaps it was only weariness.
“I hope we didn’t get you lost,” she said.
Fade shook his head. “No, I recognize that, actually.”
“That” was a building, oddly shaped with a walkway that wrapped around it. Unlike most, it looked like rotten wood, long since given way and hanging in chunks. He continued north from there, following the water until we came to a short red structure. It had a few letters painted on it, but most had peeled away, leaving only the cryptic message OLEA L U GE. I didn’t know what it meant, but Fade seemed sure of himself. He went to the side of the building, where steps led down to a door. The windows here had all been barred with heavy black metal.
He rapped urgently as the day grew brighter. I still didn’t like being out in the sun, so I got out the glasses that shaded my eyes. It grew progressively warmer until I could feel it prickling on my skin. Fade banged on the door forever and then pulled a string that dangled from the top. We stood outside for a long while.
“Go away!” A female voice shouted eventually.
“Pearl?”
At last part of the door slid open, just enough for the person inside to see us. “Who are you?”
“My father knew yours. You’re Oslo’s daughter? We came to see you.”
She spoke a word that I didn’t catch as the sliding metal clanged shut. I heard the sound of her unfastening many bolts and chains, and then the door swung open. “Get inside, quickly.”
We did as she asked.
She led us down endless flights of stairs to a solid metal door. She unlocked it and as we went in, I took in the place with wide eyes. Everything was clean. New looking. She had relics that looked as if they had just been made the day before. I recognized some of the items: sofa, chair, table, but the rest puzzled me. She also had a whole room devoted to supplies.
“It’s been a long time,” Fade said. “You’ve changed.”
His smile held layers that I didn’t like. Of course Pearl had changed. It had been at least six years since he’d seen her. She was his age, or a little older, and she was pretty. Clean. Her pale hair shone like stars, and her eyes were green as the water we’d marveled at only moments before. And her skin, her skin lacked the sickly pallor that was my legacy from a life underground. Instead it glowed with delicate warmth.
Pearl took in his scars. “So have you. Where did you go?”
“Down below.”
“Ugh,” she said. “I’ve heard they’re little better than animals.”
Funny. I thought the same thing about most Topsiders I encountered. Tegan touched my hand in silent sympathy, and I set my jaw.
“They’re not so bad,” he said. “At least, not all of them.”
I stepped forward and pasted on a false smile. We were in her home, after all. The least I could do was be polite. “I’m Deuce, animal from the underground.”
She had the courtesy to display chagrin. “I’m sorry. I don’t get many visitors.”
“Do you never go out?” Tegan asked. She had to be wondering why gangers hadn’t snatched Pearl yet.
“Not often. I have just about everything I need here.”
Fade nodded. “Your father left you well supplied.”
Apparently his hadn’t, or I would never have met him. All of a sudden, I wanted to know more about him, more than Pearl or anyone else would ever know. But this wasn’t the time or place. I’d had my chance to ask questions, and somehow I still didn’t know as much as I wanted to about him.
“Yes,” Pearl said. “I’m lucky. His great-grandfather built a bunker down here, a long time ago. They were scared of the world blowing up, or something.”
The word “bunker” was unfamiliar to me, but I didn’t ask for a definition, as I might have done from Fade, if we’d been alone. I had the inexplicable impression that I shouldn’t show weakness in front of Pearl, as if it might incite her to a feeding frenzy like a Freak. Tegan watched her with wary eyes, I think for different reasons. She simply didn’t trust people; I wasn’t sure she would’ve trusted us, except that we’d fought together, and that tended to create faster bonds.
“I was hoping you could help us,” he said.
She smiled. “For Stepan’s son … anything.”
Encouraged and plainly pleased, he went on, “We need to sleep and then we’d like to look at his old maps, if it’s all right.”
“I have them boxed up. I don’t have much room, I’m afraid, but you’re welcome to my bed. They can bed down on the floor here.” To us, she added, “You have blankets?” Her courtesy was false; it tasted like bad meat.
She didn’t want Tegan or me sleeping on her floor or under her roof. Fade didn’t seem to notice. He followed her into the other room, where they spoke in low voices. She told him how lonely she’d been. In the silence that followed, I knew he was hugging her and they were sharing childhood memories.
Since Tegan didn’t have her own blanket, she had to share mine. That meant lying close and wrapping up together. I didn’t mind. It reminded me of sharing space in the brat dorm. It cured some of my homesickness.
“I don’t like her,” Tegan whispered. “Why are we here?”
I explained what the library was and why we wanted to go there. She listened with a frown building between her brows. When I finished, she asked, “Does it matter why anything happened? I thought you were leaving and going north. That’s what I want — out of this place.”
“We are,” I said. “But we want to find answers first. I thought if we knew what happened, we might be able to prepare better for what’s out there.”
“That makes sense,” she acknowledged.
I lay back and gazed at the gray ceiling. “I don’t know anything about this world. Well, nothing but what Fade tells me. And sometimes he doesn’t seem sure either because he’s spent years underground.”
“I might be able to answer some questions,” she said.
After thinking a bit, I settled on, “Your mom wasn’t a ganger?”
“No. She and my dad were part of a small group that managed to stay hidden. It wasn’t just us, at first. But people got sick. My dad died first. My mom was the last to go. And then it was only me.”
Fade said his dad got sick too. A common thread?
“There was a disease in the enclave, a long time ago. The elders told us about a time when nearly everybody died of it. Do you think it was the same thing?”
Tegan shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Do you know why you didn’t get it?”
“I wish I did. When the Wolves had me, I asked myself why I didn’t die too.”
Her mind surprised me. In the enclave, I’d never questioned why some brats lived and some died. There seemed no pattern to it. Sometimes brats I thought were small or frail, like Twist, would wind up thriving. Sometimes a strong, hardy one died in his sleep. The world made no sense at all.
“Maybe it was to make you stronger,” I suggested.
“It did.” She rolled on her side to face me, her eyes angry. “That’s why I’ll be watching that girl. I won’t give anyone a chance to hurt me again.”
I was glad she’d said it. Now I didn’t have to wrestle with the uncomfortable suspicion that I didn’t like Pearl simply because she knew more about Fade than I did. We listened to them talking until Tegan fell asleep. Rest wouldn’t come for me, though. I kept waiting for something — a bad something — and expectancy coiled me tight.