Camilla looks down encouragingly. "Almost there."
She pushes open a panel, flooding the tunnels with blinding light. I want to cover my eyes, but I have to hang on to the rungs. I settle for turning my face away instead.
"Too bright."
"It's ok. Come, Tristan."
When I look up again, the light isn't quite as intense. Squinting, I climb the last few rungs and accept Camilla's hand as she pulls me up. The air is harsh and thick, burning my lungs. I can taste it, smell it. Pungent odors almost overwhelm me, so different from the sterilized scent of the Haven. The smell is everywhere.
"You're Outside now."
Colors spin around in dizzy circles. Green surrounds me in myriads of shapes: vines, leaves, stems, brush, and grass that protrudes from the cracked and broken, dusty asphalt we stand on. The green covers the blasted buildings; mammoth carcasses of a civilization that has long since perished. The noises never cease. The sounds of chirping, scurrying, croaking, rustling, and whirring fills the air.
I shiver as goosebumps prickle my skin. Even the wind is different Outside; it's rougher, more unapologetic in its passage.
"I thought the world was dead."
Camilla smiled. "It got better."
I look behind and see the Haven. It's almost invisible; a massive domed surface that reflects like the world's largest mirror. Curved images of the surrounding area cover it like distorted paintings.
"Let's go before it gets dark."
She leads me into down the busted avenue. Metal skeletons of abandoned vehicles line the sides, perfect shells for birds to build their nests in and insects to turn into colossal colonies. Movement surrounds us at every turn. Bristly ants disturb the tall grasses as they march in military fashion. Long gleaming insects whir by on flashing wings. I duck and cringe at every new sound until Camilla tells me to stop.
"They're only bugs. They won't hurt you."
I'm so bewildered that I almost miss the Man that stands a few yards away, watching. He is tall, taller than anyone I've ever seen. His threadbare jacket and pants blend in with the surrounding brush and branches shadow his face.
I freeze. "Camilla…" My trembling finger manages to point him out.
She turns and to my surprise smiles at the intruder. "Gabe, are you trying to scare the kid?"
Gabe steps toward us casually. He holds a curved piece of formed wood with a stretched line of almost invisible cord, and a quiver is slung over his back, filled with feathered shafts. His matted locks are long, and hair covers the lower part of his face. The Matrons treat all mounts for hair removal on a regular basis, so the sight is one I've never seen before. I stare at it in fascination, stroking my bare cheeks and wondering how it feels.
It looks itchy.
His eyes are the grayish color of a foggy morning. They twinkle in amusement as he eyes me cowering behind Camilla.
"And what kind of game are you playing, Cammy? You into kidnapping now, like the Wilders? I bet that Celeste's legendary poker face will crack if she knew about this."
Camilla rolls her eyes. "I'm not kidnapping anyone. His brother is sick, and he can't perform. I'm worried about him. I need to borrow some things from the infirmary."
"Can't perform?" Gabe grins mischievously at me. His teeth are long and tinted with stains. "A mount, are you? You don't know how lucky you are, lad." I say nothing, both because of fear and the fact that I don't have any idea what he's talking about.
He turns to Camilla. "When is your fearless leader going to wise up on the fact that it's time to shut down that archaic operation? We grow them just as good out here in the wild. Better, in fact."
Camilla shrugs. "Not my call."
"Right. Come on, then."
He and Camilla lead, talking in friendly tones. I had thought him old, but it's just the hair on his face that makes him appear that way. He seems to be only a little older than Camilla. I follow, my mind reeling. Nothing makes sense anymore.
4
After a walk through the woods that makes my legs quiver with exhaustion, we enter a large encampment. It blends so well with its surroundings that it's hard to tell how large it is. Men walk in and out of trees through doorways and on bridges high in the branches. Other doorways open from underground caverns and vine-covered hills. I notice something else that surprises me.
There are women.
They walk about with the Men, working alongside them or just talking and laughing, which is a new sight to me. They look up as we pass, calling out greetings and making jests that turn out to be about me.
Camilla takes it easily, smiling with her retorts. I don't understand how she could know so many of these outsiders.
"You've been here before?"
She looks at me as though surprised. "I grew up here, Tristan. I forget that you don't know these things."
Her casual revelation is almost beyond my comprehension. It seems impossible that there could be a civilization beyond the sterile, carefully orchestrated one that has been my complete existence. Even more so that Men appear to be only older versions of myself. Yet here I am in the midst of a completely different environment from my own in every way. Everything I have learned about the Outside is shattered, ground to dust and blown away by gusts far more powerful than any I've experienced at the seashore.
We arrive at the infirmary. It's a compound so overrun by vines that it looks as if the doorway has grown there. Inside is a brightly lit, spacious room with beds and lab tables similar to those I'm used to, if slightly more worn. The difference in demeanor strikes me as odd. Even the ones who are sick seem much more active than those who lay in the infirmary at the Haven. Some of them even smile as they speak to their nurses.
"What have we here then? A deportee?"
The man who speaks is a gruff-looking man who looks to be in his thirties. He wears a slightly tattered lab coat over his drab clothes. His beard is neater than Gabe's, though I'm still shocked by how hairy Men are.
Although his general appearance is no different than any around him, he has a presence that makes him stand out. His stance speaks of command, of giving orders. I knew because it's the same way that the Mother stands.
"His name is Tristan, Dr. Madison. He's here earlier than planned. His brother grew ill, and the sight upset him."
"How ill is his brother?"
"He had a seizure."
Dr. Madison shakes his head. "That makes how many so far?"
"Ten cases, I think."
He sighs. "I tried to tell her. All right, explain to me his exact symptoms…"
As they confer, I sit down in one of the battered seats. As soon as I do, I know it's a mistake. I'm beyond tired, and I have not eaten on schedule nor rested on time. Sleep washes over me like a silver-tinted ocean wave, gently taking me away from all the questions I have no answers for.
5
I awake to the sound of humming. I have never heard anything like it before. There's something about it, the way it shifts in tone and pitch that makes it as beautiful as the sound of the wind when it washes in the bay caves. The Matrons say the wind sings. That's what Camilla sounds like as she gently strokes my hair.
I feel safe in a way I'd never experienced. I never want to leave this moment; Camilla humming and running her fingers through my hair. Then I remember Aiden, and the moment shatters. I force myself to sit up.
"You're awake." She smiles.
I nod.
"We'd forgotten how hard the trip was on you. You were suffering the effects of exhaustion. You've slept for a whole day."