Tegan shivered. “I hate the idea there’s something in here with us.”
“Something might be better than someone,” I muttered, thinking of Stalker.
“True. Let’s explore a little.” Fade was already wending his way into the shadows, going at a near run. This place probably seemed wonderful to him, as much as he’d loved finding that old book. Here, was the prospect of countless books.
There was no point in sitting by the front doors until the sun rose. Now that my eyes had gotten used to the shift, I realized there was more light here than in the tunnels. It trickled in through the windows, painting cross-paths of silver on the dusty floor. My feet left visible tracks, and that made me uneasy. Topside, it was too easy to track us.
I told myself I was worried for nothing and I let myself be awed by the grandeur of this place. It must have been quite a world, where books lived in a house finer than anything I’d ever seen built for a person. The plants had gotten in here too, breaking through the floor in wild profusion.
“It will take hours to go through this whole place,” Tegan said.
Fade grinned. “The sun will be up by then.”
We explored each level, going up winding stairs. My nerves coiled a little tighter with each one we climbed. I’d never been so high up. I could hear my heart thumping in my ears until I would have proven no help at all, if we’d encountered anything but small animals and nesting birds.
The high ceilings and endless rows of shelves created interesting shadows. We passed through vast open rooms filled with tables. A few locked doors barred our way. Whoever broke the front doors hadn’t carried the attack all the way to the heart of the library. Here, I only heard the flutter of wings and scrabble of tiny claws skittering on the floor. If I were so inclined, this would be a decent place to lay snares for meat.
I was tired by the time Fade pronounced the place safe. Sunlight struggled through the dirty glass. Most of the windows were broken, though this part of the ruins had avoided the worst of the damage. Time had certainly taken its toll.
“What happened here?” I asked aloud.
Tegan put her hand on my shoulder. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”
We made our way back down to the ground. I felt safer, but that wasn’t the reason I thought we should begin there. It made sense to me that we should start looking at the doors and fan outward. Otherwise, we’d cross paths and might wind up covering the same area more than once.
The stuff nearest the entrance had been exposed to weather, and it was useless. It had gotten wet and shriveled up and dried, leaving the words illegible. Many of the books we touched crumbled in our hands. My hopes sank.
Farther on, we found sealed doors, and past them, an enormous room full of tables. Some of them held books; others yellowing papers. In here, the sunlight was sufficient for us to start reading.
I picked up a faded yellow bundle of papers. There were images, right on the paper, beside the words, but none of them were of happy things. I saw a lady crying, and a fire rising up from a car. I’d only seen them rusted and motionless. This one seemed to have been drawn at the exact moment it hit another one, and they both had flames all over them.
“‘CDC reports vaccine failure,’” I read slowly. Most of the words were unfamiliar to me, and I sounded them out as best I could.
“Did you find something?” Fade asked, coming to my shoulder.
He rested his hand there as he leaned in, an easy touch like Stone would’ve bestowed, but coming from Fade, it meant something else. Not comfort or connection or a quiet way of saying he was there. I sensed the difference in every part of me.
“I’m not sure.” I handed him the paper.
There was no shame in admitting his reading skills exceeded mine. I knew my letters and I would never be hurt because I’d failed to understand a warning sign. What else did I need? He skimmed the words, using only his eyes and not his fingers, as I did to mark my place.
“I don’t understand all of it,” he said at last. “But it seems like the disease my dad had — and Tegan’s mom — it killed a lot of people. So they tried to make medicine for it, but it didn’t work, and things got worse.”
Worse. Like now? Or had life improved for people since then? That was hard to imagine.
“Are we the only ones left then?” Tegan whispered. “The underground tribes, the gangers, and a few survivors like my mom and me?”
Fade shook his head angrily. “No. My dad said people went north. That it was better there.”
With a little twinge of pain, I wondered if those had just been stories, like the one he was reading to us — full of promise that could never be realized. Because I knew the question would hurt him, I didn’t ask it. Maybe he saw it in my eyes because his sharp features drew in on a frown.
Presently Tegan came over with a different paper. “What’s ‘evacuation’ mean?”
I shrugged as Fade took it and scanned the words. Maybe he could figure it out from reading the rest. Not for the first time, I admired his mind as much as I admired the way he fought.
“I’m not sure,” he finally admitted. “But I think it has to do with people leaving. The person who wrote this seems angry. ‘Evacuation plans are slanted toward the rich and powerful. This is going to be Katrina all over again,’” he read aloud.
“Powerful, like the elders,” I muttered. “So whatever happened, the important people left first.”
“There were people left behind,” Tegan said. “That’s why we’re here.”
It was a sobering thought. We came from those who hadn’t been important enough to get evacuated. Though I might not be sure what the word meant precisely, I was positive its opposite was “left behind.”
“We could spend forever here and not learn more than this,” I said.
I was a little disappointed not to find all the answers in a single book, waiting for us turned to the right pages, but I now realized my expectations had been too high. A place like this couldn’t tell us where to go, or what lay beyond the ruins. If we were brave enough, we’d have to find out for ourselves.
“I’d like to look a little longer,” Fade said.
“Fine with me.” But I sat down. I was done poking around the dusty pages, looking to dead words for my answers. On the table beside me, I found what must be a child’s book because it was mostly pictures.
On a whim I opened it. “A is for Apple. B is for Bear. C is for Cat.” Intrigued, I went through, learning new words, things, and creatures with each flip. This book was sturdier than the others, so the pages had held up better. They still felt stiff. At W, I paused, wide-eyed.
“Tegan!” I called. “Come look!”
She got up with a sigh. I think she was ready to leave too, but we were indulging Fade, as neither of us really wanted to set out before nightfall anyway. We both preferred walking after dark.
“‘W is for Wolf,’” I read and tapped my finger on the picture. “Have you ever seen one of those?”
“Not for real. Just the human kind.”
“But you knew what they were?” I was disappointed and chagrined. Apparently I was the only ignorant one. Our schooling hadn’t included much Topside lore, and most of what I’d been taught was wrong. I comforted myself with the fact that Tegan didn’t know about Freaks or Burrowers. She didn’t know what my scars meant. Unfortunately, my knowledge was useless up here.
“My mom had this exact book. She taught me to read with it.” She sounded odd and choky.
There was no way it had survived her captivity, so I held out the book to her. “You want it?”
Her eyes got bright and teary. “Thank you.”